James Potter and the Shrieking Shack
by Avery-Lou
Summary: YEAR TWO: Remus Lupin has a secret that even his best friends don't know about. Something dangerous has come to Hogwarts. And in the thick of things, you'll find James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew - reckless, stubborn, and worst of all... curious. How long will it be before they discover the truth?
1. Owls and Parchment

**A/N: Hello everyone, and welcome to Year Two of my _James Potter_ series! If you aren't already aware, this is the sequel to _James Potter and the Immortal Icon_ (Year One), which can be found on my profile. It is not strictly necessary to have read it (although it will be referenced occasionally), but if you've got the time, I encourage you to check it out. Enjoy!  
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**James Potter and the Shrieking Shack**  
(Year Two)

**Chapter 1: Owls and Parchment**

It was a quiet afternoon in the Potter household, and for once a certain messy-haired, bespectacled twelve-year-old had no plans to disrupt the peace. He lay on his bed, thumbing through _The Golden Book of Quidditch Records_ without reading the words or even noticing the figures darting about on broomsticks in the photographs on the page. If there was one thing James Potter loved more than troublemaking, it was Quidditch, and within a few moments of reading about the best, famous Quidditch players, James had lost himself in his own imagination.

In a little more than a month, you see, he would board the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross Station for his second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And this year, unlike the last, James would be allowed to bring his own broomstick and try out for the house Quidditch team. The four houses – Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and James' own Gryffindor – competed each year for the coveted Quidditch Cup. Last year, a narrow victory over Gryffindor in the final match of the season had led to Ravenclaw claiming not only the Quidditch Cup, but the House Cup as well.

James didn't much care about the House Cup competition, as most of his fellow students knew all too well. After all, last year the combined efforts of James, his best friend Sirius Black, and their fellow pranksters, the now-graduated Prewett twins, had secured Gryffindor last place.

But when it came to Quidditch, James took considerably more interest in a Gryffindor victory. In the month since returning home from Hogwarts, James had spent nearly all his free time (when not driving his mother mad by hiding dungbombs in the wash and sneaking frogspawn soap into all the toilets) practicing his moves on the local pitch. The wizarding residents of Godric's Hollow had set it up generations ago when muggles had first started moving to town. There were enough concealment and muggle-repellant charms on the pitch that anyone of magical blood could use it freely without risking discovery.

It was a good thing, too. James wanted to make the team more than anything in the world – and with the extra practice he was getting in, he was sure to outfly everyone else at tryouts. His head filled with images of his new teammates grinning as they clapped him on the back, lifted him onto their shoulders after he scored the winning goal, and in the background, his fans waving banners with slogans like "Potter Rules" and "We love James."

These fantasies were only dispelled when he flipped the last page of _The Golden Book of Quidditch Records _and found himself staring at the metallic back cover. With renewed fervor, James snatched up the latest issue of _Which Broomstick,_ a publication that contained specifications and expert opinions for every broomstick currently in production. There was the Comet 220, which could achieve only moderate speeds but was very reliable, and the Meteora, which was rumored to be the fastest broom ever. (Unfortunately, no one had been able to verify this claim, as the Meteora had a nasty habit of bucking riders who flew in breezy weather or had sweaty palms or tried to turn too sharply to the right.)

For a time, James had considered the brand-new Cleansweep 6. Cleansweeps had a solid history, and_ Which Broomstick_ had nothing bad to say about the latest model, but James had always felt that the heavy, unshakeable broomsticks were better suited to Beaters. A Chaser, James thought, needed something maneuverable, something quick. Perhaps speed wasn't as important to a Chaser as to a Seeker, but a Chaser had to be able to dodge bludgers and opponents alike in order to slip past the Keeper.

A Chaser, James decided, needed something like the Nimbus 1000.

James stared at the article on the Nimbus, in awe of the precision with which the wizard in the photo navigated a dense, dark forest. Although the Nimbus was five years old, it was still considered top-of-the-line. Capable of full three-hundred and sixty degree, on-the-spot turns and achieving speeds of up to a hundred miles per hour, the Nimbus had come out of nowhere to capture the attention of Quidditch teams everywhere. The other, older broom companies were still scrambling to catch up.

Now all that remained was for James to convince his parents to buy him a Nimbus of his very own, and the Quidditch tryouts would be in the bag.

Just then, James' enormous, speckled eagle owl, Luftwing, swooped through his open window, followed by an unfamiliar owl that was dwarfed by Luftwing's bulk. Both landed on James' bedposts and held out a leg bearing a scroll of parchment.

James untied the letters, and at once, the owls took off – Luftwing for his perch in the corner of James' room, and the other for the window. Hardly pausing to watch the small owl go, James unrolled the letter it had brought.

It was from Sirius' cousin, Andromeda Tonks (formerly Andromeda Black), whom James had met at Hogwarts the previous year, and who had graduated with the Prewetts and her then-fiancé, Ted Tonks. Ted was a muggle-born, which wouldn't have meant a thing except that the Blacks believed muggle-borns to be beneath purebloods like themselves, and as a result Andromeda had been disowned, her name blasted right off the family tree.

The letter read—

_Dear James,_

_I hope your summer is going well, and that you and Sirius are  
putting my Christmas gift to good use._

(For Christmas the previous year, Andromeda had given Sirius a pair of charmed parchment squares she and Ted had made to keep in touch. Sirius and James had inherited the parchment because a "blood-traitor" Potter was a far cry from acceptable company in the eyes of Sirius' blood-purist parents.)

_I just wanted to thank you for coming to the wedding last week. It  
really meant a lot to Ted and me to have you and your parents  
there. I hope you weren't too put out by the muggle traditions,  
but Ted's family was nervous enough having all those wizards  
over without any magical additions to the ceremony, and anyway  
I found the whole thing quite charming. I'm sure my mother  
would have been appalled._

_Sirius isn't still beating himself up about not being able to make it,  
is he? I know what it's like, living with them, and there was never  
any chance of Aunt Walburga and Uncle Orion letting him come.  
Tell him that for me, will you?_

_Anyway, have a fun summer, and good luck with your second year  
at Hogwarts. Try not to get expelled._

_Lots of love,_

_Andromeda_

Laughing, James set Andromeda's letter down on top of _The Golden Book of Quidditch Records_ and turned to the other letter, the one Luftwing had brought. He knew before he opened it that it was from another of his best friends, Peter Pettigrew, a shy boy James and Sirius had once rescued from a pair of Slytherin bullies.

_Dear James,_

_Sirius just sent me an owl saying his parents agreed to let him  
spend the last two weeks of summer at my house! We're meeting  
him in Diagon Alley on the eighteenth of August. Have you asked  
your parents yet? We could all get our books and then come back  
to my place, or you could floo over later. It doesn't matter to me.  
I can't wait to have you over!_

_By the way, have you heard from Remus? He hasn't been answering  
my owls. I'm sending him another one letting him know about the  
eighteenth__, but I don't know if he'll get it._

_See you soon, I hope!_

_Peter_

James frowned momentarily after reading Peter's letter. Remus Lupin, the newest member of their little group, was a quiet, bookish boy who had spent most of the preceding year voicing his disapproval whenever James and Sirius orchestrated a prank. But in the end, he had begun to lighten up, and since the start of the holidays, James had written to Remus almost as often as to Peter. But, like Peter, James had yet to receive a single reply. He was beginning to wonder if Remus had even received any of their owls.

Pushing this thought aside for now, he sprang up from his bed, ran out into the long, bright corridor, and thundered down the red-carpeted stairs, raising such a racket that his mother appeared at the kitchen door.

Mrs. Potter was a plump, stern woman with tidy, graying hair and a flour-covered apron tied over her periwinkle blue robes. Her wand stuck out of one pocket, a wooden spoon out of another. Hands resting on her hips, she frowned at James – but he knew better than anyone that beneath the strict demeanor and frequent admonitions was a certain fondness that meant James could get away with well near anything.

"What's all this then?" Mrs. Potter demanded. "Are you a boy or a bludger?"

James mumbled an apology before rushing on: "I've just got an owl from my friend, see?" He thrust the parchment forward, but snatched it back before Mrs. Potter had a chance to read it. "He's asked me over for the last two weeks of the hols. Can I go?"

Mrs. Potter quirked an eyebrow, giving her son a bemused smile. "And what is this friend's name?"

"Peter Pettigrew."

"Pettigrew?" Mrs. Potter asked. "Not Phillip's son?"

"Umm…" James gave a helpless shrug. "Who's Phillip?"

"Your father knows a Phillip Pettigrew at the Ministry. I'd heard he had a son about your age, but I didn't realize you were friends."

With another shrug, James smiled. "So can I go?"

"I'll have to talk to your father about it." Mrs. Potter's smile broadened when James groaned. "But I don't see any reason why not."

Whooping, James gave his mother a quick hug before turning and running back up to his bedroom, where he snatched up a quill and scribbled a quick note for Luftwing to deliver to Peter. As he tied it to the owl's leg, however, he decided to write another for Remus: _I don't know if you've heard yet, but me and Sirius are going to Peter's house in a couple weeks. I'd better see you there. Write me back, okay? —James_

This he tied to Luftwing's other leg. "The first one goes to Peter, and this one is for Remus – but don't come back till he's written me. You make sure he writes, okay?"

Luftwing nipped James' fingertip in acknowledgement and took flight. James watched him go, then turned to the haphazard stack of books that sat at the foot of his bed. Selecting one from the middle – and ignoring the fact that the rest of the stack toppled when he pulled it out – James plopped down at his desk. The book was a heavy, dusty blue tome with _A History of Magic_ printed on the binding in spidery gold letters. James flipped through until he came to a page near the end, where he had tucked the piece of parchment he used to contact Sirius.

Smoothing the parchment out on the desk before him, James lobbed the book over his shoulder and onto his bed before digging out a quill and inkwell from his desk drawer.

_You there?_ he wrote on the parchment. He waited as the ink vanished like water seeping into dirt. Long seconds passed before anything more happened. Then, Sirius' large, sloppy handwriting appeared.

_Of course I'm here. Where else would I be, at Hogwarts?_

James chuckled as he dipped his quill in the ink. _Only three more weeks till Peter's house._

_ Only? That's ages in this ruddy house! I can hardly leave my room without our house elf tailing me everywhere, muttering to himself about how ungrateful I am and how I'm probably up to no good._

_ Can't you just order him to stop?_

_ I wish! Mum must've told him to keep an eye on me. I don't think she's buying the 'reformed Gryffindor' bit. It was all I could do to convince Kreacher to keep out of my room, or I'd never have a chance to breathe._

James sighed, twirling his quill. Since he was a kid, he had heard stories of the Blacks, who were nearly as cruel as they were proud. Sirius was different. He was no angel, to be sure, but he was a good friend, and he knew how to have fun. The last year had made James start to wonder whether the old stories about the Blacks were a load of dragon dung, whether the bad Blacks were the exception rather than the rule.

He knew better now. He'd had some experience with Sirius' family before – Mrs. Black had sent a Howler upon learning her son had been Sorted into Gryffindor, instead of Slytherin like the rest of the family, and she'd followed it up with several other, equally nasty letters over the course of the year. Andromeda's younger sister, Narcissa, had hounded James and Sirius at every step for not acting as respectable purebloods ought. James knew for a fact that the Blacks were rotten to the core.

What he hadn't realized was just how miserable it would be to live with them.

He'd used the parchment to contact Sirius every night since the end of term, and every time, he heard another story of the goings-on at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Mr. Black spent little time at home, but when he was around, according to Sirius, he wore the same suspicious frown as Professor McGonagall, the Head of Gryffindor and the strictest witch James had ever met, put on whenever she caught James and Sirius lurking in some empty corridor.

_He seems to think I'm up to something_, Sirius had written. _Which would be okay, except that I actually am trying to behave_. When James had suggested that _that_ might be suspicious in a boy who had earned no less than two dozen detentions in the last year, Sirius had admitted that he was considering living up to his father's expectations. Only the fact that he needed his parents' permission to go to Peter's had kept him from doing anything.

Not that it mattered, much. Mrs. Black had cracked down hard on everything Sirius did – as well as anything he might have had a hand in. He had spent three of the past four weeks with nothing but the previous year's Christmas gift, a book entitled _Notable Wizarding Families_, for entertainment, while most everything else he owned was locked away in the attic. Fortunately, he had hidden his half of Andromeda's gift in the very book his parents left in his possession, and so had been able to talk to James, even if he hadn't been allowed to send or receive much post.

And Sirius' brother Regulus had alternated between avoiding Sirius and hounding him with questions about Hogwarts and its inhabitants. James wasn't sure which Sirius preferred, as both seemed to aggravate him to no end.

James slowly became aware that Sirius had written another message.

_You think there's a spell that could put me to sleep for the next three weeks so I don't have to deal with my family?_

James rolled his eyes. _Wouldn't they find that a little odd?_

_ They probably wouldn't even notice._

_ Sure they would._

_ You're right. They'd love it._

As James debated how best to respond to this, a faint _crack_ echoed through his open window. _My dad's home, _he wrote, and at the same time, the front door opened. Mr. Potter's greeting split the silence. _Usual time tonight?_

_ I'll be here. Like always._

_ Right. Well, in the meantime, you can at least come up with some good pranks for this year. We haven't got the Prewetts to plan with this year, remember._

The only response he got was a simple, _Bye_, and James sat staring at the parchment for several minutes after the word had faded, wondering if he ought to do something to cheer Sirius up – or whether indeed he _could_ do anything while Sirius remained with his family.

Before he could decide, he heard a knock on his door and turned to see his father standing there, smiling. The man's black hair was now mostly gray, and he looked very official in his crisp Ministry robes, but his easy stance and jovial face made him seem somehow younger than his years.

"I hear you've been invited to a friend's house for a few weeks."

"Yep," James said. "I can't wait— You'll let me go, won't you?" he added in mock concern.

Mr. Potter's face crumpled into a critical expression, but James could see the twinkle in his warm hazel eyes. "I don't know… His parents will be there?"

"Oh, absolutely." James nodded solemnly. "They'll be on us like a goblin on gold."

"And how many people has he invited?"

"One or two other friends from school."

"Anyone I know?"

Rolling his eyes, James shook his head. "They're twelve, Dad. I'm sure you've never met."

Although he nearly laughed, Mr. Potter managed to continue his interrogation. "Names?"

"Peter, Remus, and—"

"Full names, James," Mr. Potter said in mock irritation. "Do you know how many Peters there are in the world?"

James flinched before responding – he'd told his parents about Sirius and Peter and Remus, of course, but he'd always neglected to supply Sirius' surname. He wasn't sure what they would think of their son befriending a Black. It couldn't be as bad as the Blacks' reaction, he supposed, but Mr. and Mrs. Potter had warned James about people like the Blacks more times than he could remember. But if Sirius could handle his parents' disapproval, so could James.

"Peter Pettigrew's the one who invited me," James said, pausing as his father nodded in recognition. "And there's Remus Lupin – though, we haven't heard back from him yet, so I guess he might not be there…" His gaze drifted toward the window, wondering (not for the first time) whether something had happened to Remus, but he shook himself after only a second and turned resolutely back toward his father. "And Sirius Black."

"Black?" Mr. Potter's stern façade slipped, and he stared at James in genuine surprise. "Sirius… _Black?_"

"He's not like them!" James said, lurching to his feet, ready for a fight. "He's not stuck-up or anything, and he couldn't care less about blood purity! Really, he's—"

Mr. Potter held up a hand. "It's okay, James. I – _really_? A Black?" He laughed. "I suppose it _has_ happened before."

"You mean Aunt Dorea and Uncle Charlus?" James asked. While he had never met Dorea and Charlus Potter (who wasn't James' uncle, but actually a third or fourth cousin), he had heard about them in passing. They didn't often come up in conversation, but neither were they spoken of with contempt. It was almost as though they lived in their own separate world, and the rest of the family brought them up only when even the weather was too boring to talk about. James suddenly wondered what the Blacks thought of the union.

"I do." Mr. Potter gave James an appraising look before he reached out to ruffle his hair. "I suppose that explains why you asked your mother to send him a Christmas gift."

Raking his fingers through his hair, although he knew it would do little good, James eyed his father. "You're not mad?"

"Of course not. You're free to choose your own friends."

"So… I can go to Peter's?"

The façade was back. "None of your _female_ classmates are coming?"

"Ugh, Dad!" James grimaced. "What would we want _girls_ there for?"

Laughing, Mr. Potter pulled James into a hug. "Alright then. You can go."

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**A/N: Just a reminder/heads-up: I have several companion stories to go along with this series - _Padfoot's Story, Moony's Story, Wormtail's Story, _and _Lily's Story_. They are updated sporadically, and you don't have to read them to enjoy this fic. But for those of you who are interested, I'll let you know in my author's notes when a new chapter of any companion goes up. Thanks for reading!  
**


	2. Diagon Alley

**A/N: Thanks for the awesome response so far, guys! Hope you all enjoy the new chapter!**

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**Chapter 2: Diagon Alley**

July came to a tedious close as James counted down the days until he would see his friends. He practiced his Quidditch moves every day and wrote to Sirius every night; Peter sent him a few more owls, and James replied in kind.

And still Remus sent no word. Despite James' instructions to Luftwing to pester Remus for a reply to his last letter, the owl returned late the same night, feathers ruffled, and hooted incessantly for an hour. At first, James had worried that something was wrong with the owl, but when morning found James bleary-eyed and Luftwing sleeping soundly in his cage, James did his best to forget the incident.

Life at Grimmauld Place was as horrible as ever, it seemed, but Sirius assured James he had enough pranks planned to last them through Christmas, and by the time the eighteenth of August rolled around, he'd have worked out all the kinks.

_They're mostly for the Slytherins_, Sirius explained one night after his family had gone to bed. _Stuff I'd pull here if I didn't need my parents in a good mood._

And then, at last, the day arrived. Friday the eighteenth dawned bright and blazing hot, but James hardly noticed the temperature as he rushed around in last-minute preparation. Clothes and other necessities went into an old rucksack, along with sweets, joke items, his invisibility cloak, and the leather journal he used to record prank ideas. Books, cauldron and potions kit, school uniform, and various school supplies he dumped into his trunk, which Mr. and Mrs. Potter would bring to King's Cross when they came to see James off on September first.

"All ready?" Mr. Potter asked when James bounded into the kitchen at half-past nine. The man had taken the day off work for the trip to Diagon Alley.

James plopped down at the table and snuck a piece of toast from his father's plate. "Ready when you are."

"You have the list, Nadine?" Mr. Potter asked, pretending not to notice the stolen food.

Mrs. Potter patted her pocket. "Shall we?" As she swept from the room, Mr. Potter downed the last of his tea, James snatched the last piece of toast, and both stood. A _crack_ announced the arrival of Mitsy, their house-elf, who bowed to the Potters and set about clearing the table.

In the living room, Mrs. Potter took down the jar of floo powder sitting on the mantle and passed it around. "You first, dear," she said to her husband.

Mr. Potter stepped forward, threw a pinch of floo powder into the fireplace, announced, "Diagon Alley," and stepped into the green flames.

At his mother's insistence, James went next, pausing only to removed his spectacles – the first time he'd traveled by floo, his frames had snapped in half and one lens had cracked. He hadn't risked it since. As soon as he called out his destination, the flames flared around him, and he began to spin uncontrollably, blurry fireplaces flashing past. James had never much cared for the Floo Network, and this trip did nothing to improve his opinion. All the spinning made him nauseous, and the soot, as always, found its way up his nose. When he popped out into the dim, noisy interior of the Leaky Cauldron with another burst of emerald fire, he sneezed three times in quick succession.

He heard a laugh, and his father clapped him on the shoulder. "Tom, I think he's allergic to your pub!"

Harrumphing, James found a clean corner of his shirt to wipe his spectacles before shoving them onto his face and glaring at his father. "It's that bloody floo powder I'm allergic to."

"James!" Mrs. Potter chided, appearing in the fireplace. "Language!"

"Sorry, mum."

With a long, hard look (to which James responded with his most angelic smile), Mrs. Potter turned and led the way out the back door to a shaded courtyard. She prodded a brick with her wand, and an archway appeared in the wall. James darted through while the hole was still expanding, then he stopped and reveled in the bustle of Diagon Alley. With just two weeks to go before the start of term, Hogwarts students and their families had turned out in droves, scuttling from shop to shop, their arms laden with parcels and bags.

The few muggles were easy to spot, for quite aside from their extraordinary clothing, they gawked at everything they passed. The Hogwarts students with them – those who were old enough to no longer join in the gawking, at least – chatted away, pointing here and there as they explained things to their families.

A quick glance turned up only one face familiar to James, but it belonged to Gilderoy Lockhart, a Ravenclaw in James' year whom everyone found thoroughly annoying. From the looks of it, Gilderoy was peppering his muggle parents with bits of trivia, as he was prone to do without pause, but his parents (unlike everyone else he subjected to his "brilliance") were too ignorant of the wizarding world to know he was full of it.

As Gilderoy ambled nearer to where the Potters stood, James made a beeline for the closest building, which happened to be Sugarplum's Sweets Shop. By the time his parents had caught up with him, James had amassed an armful of candy, which he assured his mother would last him at least until term started.

Unamused, Mrs. Potter made him put most of it back, but conceded that a handful of chocolate frogs weren't too much to take to a friend's house for two weeks. James decided not to inform her that he had already packed a small mountain of sweets in his rucksack. After a bit more prodding, he got her to concede a wad of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum to chew while they shopped ("Perhaps it will keep your mouth busy!"), and by the time they walked back out onto the street, James was spewing vivid indigo bubbles that drifted up and away into the glaring sunshine.

They had arranged to meet the Pettigrews at Flourish and Blotts at noon to buy their books before grabbing lunch, so the Potters spent the morning meandering from shop to shop, getting the other items on James' list. They replenished his Potions kit and purchased more parchment and ink. When Mrs. Potter went to find a store that sold her favorite brand of tea kettle to replace the one James had ruined with a wet-start firework (apparently the "no-heat" on the label didn't mean non-damaging), Mr. Potter and James snuck off to Gambol and Japes, the joke shop, for dung bombs, frog spawn soap, and the like. Mr. Potter promptly shrank their purchases and hid them in an inner pocket, promising to stow them in James' trunk when Mrs. Potter wasn't looking.

When they had everything they needed except James' books, they still had three quarters of an hour to waste, so James seized the opportunity to drag his parents over to Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Can I get a broom?" he asked as soon as the sign came into view. "_Please?_"

Mrs. Potter was already frowning. "We have brooms at home, James."

"Yeah." James rolled his eyes. "An ancient Swiftstick and a Comet that tries to fly sideways."

"It worked just fine until you crashed it into Mrs. Renna's herb garden."

James ignored his mother's pointed look. "The point is, I can try out this year. I'll need a good broom if I want to make the team; the school brooms are all rubbish."

"It's true," Mr. Potter said fairly. "You remember what those old relics are like."

Mrs. Potter glanced up at the display cases, her face slightly pale. "Well… I suppose a new broom _would_ be safer."

James flung his arms around her waist and pointed out the Nimbus 1000 near the front with the new Cleansweep 6. Mrs. Potter tried to talk him into the older, safer (_And slower_, James added silently) Cleansweep 5, but James knew she was only fretting, and when he swore he wouldn't fly faster than he absolutely had to, she gave in.

Walking back out into the sunshine, James ran his hand over the smooth handle and pristine tail twigs of his new broom. He'd already decided he was taking it to Peter's house so he and his friends could try it out, and he refused to let his mother touch it, for fear she would change her mind and lock it away or put some kind of speed-capping charm on it. Instead, he cradled it against his chest as they turned down the street toward Flourish and Blotts.

As they approached, James caught sight of a familiar figure perched on a trunk outside the bookshop, his trainers scuffing at the pavement as a bead of sweat trickled out from under his shaggy black hair. He had the handsome features of the Black family, but none of their haughtiness; he sat with his shoulders hunched and his cheek resting on his fist.

"Sirius!" James called, picking up his pace.

Sirius' head snapped up, his gray eyes scanning the crowd. When he spotted James, his face split into a wide grin. "James!" He leaped to his feet, saw the broom in James' arms, and his jaw dropped. "Is that a Nimbus?"

Nodding, James handed it to Sirius for examination. After a few moments of awed exclamations and murmurs of approval from Sirius, Mr. Potter interrupted.

"So," he said, eyeing the boy. "You're Sirius Black."

James felt his best friend tense beside him, and Sirius rose to his full height – just a sliver taller than James himself. "It's Sirius. You must be James' parents." Not waiting for a reply, he went on: "If you're going to tell me you don't want me hanging around James—"

"Why in Merlin's name would we say something like that?" Mrs. Potter asked, smiling at him.

Sirius seemed taken aback by this and glanced from James, who snickered into his hand, to Mr. and Mrs. Potter. "Wait, you… what?"

Mrs. Potter laid a hand on Sirius' shoulder. "You're my son's friend."

"And where I come from, that's a capital offense," Sirius agreed. He gave a wicked grin and nudged James. "Then again, so's being a decent human being."

Mr. Potter laughed. "I like this kid. Are all your friends like this, James?"

With an exasperated sigh, Mrs. Potter turned to scan the street. "Where _are_ your parents, dear?"

"Home, probably," Sirius said in an off-handed way as he took to examining the Nimbus once more. "Reg was getting peckish."

"You don't mean they _left_ you here?"

Sirius shrugged. "They knew Pete and his folks would come get me eventually."

With a noise in the back of her throat that James recognized as one of utmost fury, Mrs. Potter crossed her arms over her chest. "And just _how long_ have you been sitting here, _alone_?"

Appearing to hear the danger in the woman's voice, Sirius glanced to James before answering. "Er… I dunno. Half hour?"

"Hmph." Without another word, Mrs. Potter drew her wand and gave Sirius' trunk a tap. It shrunk to the size of a soap bar, and she tucked it into her pocket, wrapped her arm around Sirius' shoulders, and steered him away from the bookshop.

"Er… Mrs. Potter?" Sirius asked warily. He flung a look over his shoulder, but James, who had fallen into step behind his friend, merely smirked. "Where are we going?"

"To get you boys some ice cream."

-.-.-

It was a sign of how gravely the Blacks had offended Mrs. Potter by leaving Sirius alone in Diagon Alley that she not only suggested ice cream less than an hour before they were due to have lunch, but refused to leave the counter before Sirius had agreed to two scoops. The two boys accepted their treat and scampered off to find a table, where Sirius informed James that his mother was "completely nutters."

"It just means she likes you," James informed him with a grin.

By the time they finished their ice cream and returned to Flourish and Blotts, the Pettigrews had arrived. Peter was a short, plump boy with dingy blond hair and a nervous smile, but he perked up immediately when James and Sirius called his name. He joined them in fawning over the Nimbus 1000 while his and James' parents greeted each other.

"Phillip!" Mr. Potter said, shaking the man's hand. "How are things at work?"

Mr. Pettigrew gave a pained smile. "Oh, you know. Never a dull moment. Especially with all the rumors flying around."

"Rumors?" James asked, turning away from his friends. "What rumors?"

The adults stared at James for a long moment, as though surprised to find him standing there. At length, Mrs. Pettigrew forced a smile. "Never you mind. So, Anthony, I hear you've been promoted."

It was a clumsy attempt to divert him, James thought, rolling his eyes, but he decided not to press the issue... for now.

"That's right," Mrs. Potter said, slipping her arm around Mr. Potter's shoulders. "He's on the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee now – very important business, you know."

"Sure is." James smirked. "Plus, he gets to lie everyday and no one yells at him for it."

"James!" Mrs. Potter snapped, but Mr. Potter was laughing. "It's not funny, Anthony!"

Mr. Potter sobered, although he shot James a conspiratorial wink. "Of course not, dear. But I think James may just follow in his old man's footsteps. He's already shown great promise in making up excuses."

Sirius and James laughed out loud at this, and even Peter chuckled, at least until his mother joined Mrs. Potter in glaring at the boys. James ignored his own mother and puffed up his chest. "I'll be sure to get in even more practice this year."

Mrs. Pettigrew and Mrs. Potter exchanged weary glances, and Mr. Pettigrew eyed the two women nervously before gesturing to the book shop's front door. "Well, what are we waiting for? We're here for books, aren't we?"

"Of course," Mrs. Pettigrew said. "Come along, Peter."

The Pettigrews entered Flourish and Blotts, and Mr. Potter started to follow, but stopped when he noticed his wife hadn't moved. Instead, she watched until the shop door closed, then turned back toward the boys. "Sirius, dear," she said. "Have you got everything you need?"

"Yes, ma'am," Sirius said. "Books, Potions kit, parchment and ink. It's all in my trunk already."

"Well, all right then. You want to come in with us or wait out here?"

James eyed the rows and rows of bookshelves visible through the storefront windows and wrinkled his nose. "Out here! Too much like a library in there."

With a laugh, Mrs. Potter said, "Alright. Don't wander off. We'll be out in a bit." And she and Mr. Potter disappeared after the Pettigrews. James and Sirius sat down on the pavement, and Sirius snatched the Nimbus 1000 out of James' arms to marvel at it once more.

"You're bringing this with you, right?" Sirius demanded sharply, running his thumb over the white lettering on the underside of the broomstick. NIMBUS RACING BROOM COMPANY, the letters read. MODEL No. 1000.

"Obviously," James said, rolling his eyes. "What, d'you think I've gone barmy?"

Sirius snickered. "You went barmy ages ago, mate. Can I give it a go?"

"Right after me," James said. "Peter can be third. And then—" At the thought, James glanced up, scanning the street for a glimpse of their missing friend.

Catching on to his train of thought, Sirius, too, tore his eyes away from the broomstick. "Where's Remus?"

James shrugged. "I dunno. I haven't heard from him since the last week of term. Pete either, far as I know. We've both sent him about a hundred owls, but…" He trailed off, still searching for a familiar, scarred face. (James had always wondered where Remus had gotten such horrendous wounds, but Remus had never offered any explanation, and James didn't want to be rude.)

"So he's not coming?"

"I dunno," James said again. "I told him when we were meeting, so he _might_ show." Even to James, the words sounded hopeless, and he sighed. "You don't think something's happened, do you?"

"Maybe his mum's sick again," Sirius suggested glumly, drumming his fingers on the Nimbus.

James frowned. It was true that Mrs. Lupin had spent a great deal of time in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, and as a result, Remus had had to leave Hogwarts on several occasions to visit her. It had started sometime around Christmas, and had continued through the end of the school year. Remus had even left half a week early because his mother had suffered a relapse. Perhaps she had not yet recovered this time, or had been in and out for the last six weeks.

"You don't think she's died, do you?" James asked fearfully.

For a second, Sirius' eyes widened, but he shook his head firmly and said, "No way. She can't have. He would've told us."

James wasn't entirely convinced of this, for James and Sirius had usually heard about Mrs. Lupin's relapses through a professor, rather than through Remus himself, and the boy didn't often speak about himself. Even when Remus had been attacked by a dark creature, landing him in the Hospital Wing, he had been reluctant to admit the extent of his injuries to James, Sirius, and Peter. Admittedly, the three hadn't been that close to Remus at the time, but he had still been surprisingly tight-lipped about the attack.

But surely if his mother had _died_, Remus would have said something to his friends… _Like what?_ James argued silently. _'Dear James, Just wanted to let you know, my mum's dead. Hope you're having a good holiday! Remus'? Not bloody likely!_

Just then, Mr. and Mrs. Potter emerged with the Pettigrews, each woman carrying a small stack of books for her son.

Mr. Potter frowned upon seeing James and Sirius' faces. "Something wrong, boys?"

James and Sirius exchanged a glance, and then James turned to Peter. "Has Remus owled you?"

Peter shook his head. "He hasn't written to you either?"

"Remus?" Mr. Potter asked when James shook his head. "Remus Lupin, was it? Your other friend?"

"Yeah," James said. "We haven't heard from him all summer. His mum's been sick a lot, see? He had to leave early at the end of term because she was back in St. Mungo's."

"You don't think she's…" Peter seemed incapable of finishing his thought and merely stared at James in horror.

Mrs. Potter placed a hand on James' head. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm sure she's perfectly fine."

"All the same," Mr. Pettigrew said, frowning slightly. "Perhaps someone should check in on the Lupins."

Mrs. Pettigrew frowned. "Whatever for?"

"You know what for, dear." The Pettigrews exchanged a significant glance, and Mr. Potter's expression darkened at the exchange.

"I can stop by after lunch," he said firmly, placing a hand in the small of his wife's back when she opened her mouth to protest. "I've nothing else to do, and it won't take more than a few minutes to make sure everyone's in good health." He ruffled James' hair, at which the boy scowled. Mr. Potter only grinned. "Nothing to worry about, you'll see. Now – who's hungry?"

After this, the adults directed the conversation away from Remus and his family, studiously avoiding any attempts by the boys to get more information from them. The seven of them ate lunch in a noisy café, after which they returned to the Leaky Cauldron for a flurry of goodbyes and an exchange of hugs and packages and trunks. Mr. and Mrs. Potter left first, carrying James' school supplies back to Godric's Hollow to be packed into his trunk.

After the emerald flames swallowed the Potters, Mrs. Pettigrew stepped forward, calling out, "Number Nine Marshview Lane." Peter followed with his parcels, and James went next with his rucksack and broomstick.

He emerged with a sneeze in a small, cozy sitting room painted a pastel green with plush couches ranged about the fireplace. James stepped quickly aside as Sirius appeared in the flames behind him, shaking the ash from his hair and joining James and Peter by one of the couches. Mr. Pettigrew appeared last with Sirius' trunk, smiled at the boys, and gestured around.

"Welcome to Number Nine, boys. How about a tour?"


	3. Ill Tidings

**A/N: I had an anonymous reviewer ask about Mr. Potter's job, so I thought I'd take a second to answer that. The Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee is part of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and is responsible for coming up with plausible explanations for magical incidents in the muggle world. (Major incidents that require the Muggle Prime Minister's help to cover up, in contrast, are handled by the Office of Misinformation.) For example, it was likely the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee who put out the story that a gas explosion killed the twelve muggles when Sirius confronted Wormtail after James and Lily's death. Hope that helps, and enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Ill Tidings**

The Pettigrews' home was small and cozy, full of cheery colors and smiling, waving photographs. Unlike the Potters and the Blacks, the Pettigrews did not own a house elf, and so there always seemed to be a bit of clutter that no one had bothered to pick up. Peter's room in particular looked like a hippogriff had torn it apart (Peter flushed crimson when James made this observation, but James and Sirius merely laughed). Peter's parents had magically extended the room to fit three additional beds.

"There are guest rooms across the hall, of course," Mrs. Pettigrew had told them. "But I'm sure you'll be up talking half the night anyway, and you might as well do it from your beds."

Peter's room, three large guest rooms, and a toilet took up the first floor, while the master bedroom was on the ground floor with the kitchen, dining room, and various living areas. All told, it was a bit smaller than James' house in Godric's Hollow, and Sirius confessed that the Black residence at Grimmauld Place could likely fit both their houses inside, but there was no doubt that the Pettigrews had the best yard of the lot.

"Not that anyone's got a lawn where I live," Sirius said, pressing his face against the window in Peter's bedroom that looked out over the broad stretch of green, "but _blimey_ that's a lot of grass."

James laughed, but had to agree. "It's almost as big as a real Quidditch pitch!" The Potters had a nice-sized backyard, of course, good for garden parties and games of tag, but James had to walk more than a mile outside town to find a place to fly. "It's got privacy charms on it?"

Peter nodded. "We can fly whenever."

With a round of cheers, the three boys charged downstairs with James' Nimbus. Peter and Sirius went to fetch the Pettigrews' brooms from a cupboard while James waited for them by the back door, bouncing on the balls of his feet and calling for them to hurry. Soon enough, they reappeared, carrying older but well-maintained broomsticks. Grinning, James dashed outside and mounted his Nimbus.

It flew like a dream, shooting high above the rooftop and turning obediently into a sharp dive. After a few circuits around the yard, James pulled up next to Sirius and Peter, who hovered a few feet off the ground, watching his flight. Sirius grinned as James urged his broom into a figure-eight pattern around his friends, and Peter looked on in awe.

"Hey Pete!" James called as he executed a graceful loop. "Got any Quidditch gear?"

Peter nodded mutely.

Sirius sidled up beside Peter and gave him a light punch on the arm. "Then quit drooling and go get it!"

At once, Peter touched down and scuttled inside. While they waited for him to return, James and Sirius raced each other back and forth across the yard. James won easily every time, of course, but Sirius was too busy grinning at the Nimbus' performance to notice that he was losing.

Peter rejoined them a few minutes later with a regulation quaffle tucked under one arm, and Mr. Pettigrew conjured three gleaming gold hoops at either end of the yard.

"Dad says we can play with the quaffle for now," Peter explained, tossing the oddly shaped red ball to James, who caught it easily. "And after dinner, if we want to add a bludger, he can be our second Beater. He's just got something-or-other to finish up right now."

"Fine by me," James said, tossing the quaffle experimentally. "Two-on-one?"

Sirius and Peter happily teamed up against James and the Nimbus, but even so, James flattened them. His superb broom, together with the extra practice he'd been putting in, made him untouchable. Before long, James handed the Nimbus over to Sirius and took the Comet he'd been riding, and a while later, Peter took his turn.

James was easily the best Chaser of the three, regardless of what broom he had, and he managed to score as many goals as the other two combined even when they had the Nimbus. It was apparent that Sirius was a better flyer than Peter, despite the fact that he had never touched a broomstick before coming to Hogwarts, as his parents hated travel by broom and there was nowhere for him to have played Quidditch. Equally apparent was that, while Peter's many games with his family and neighbors had made him a halfway decent Chaser, Sirius was not cut out for the position. He could fly, and was pretty good at slipping past James' defense, but he couldn't catch a pass to save his life, and most of his shots went wide.

By the time Mrs. Pettigrew appeared at the back door to call them in for supper, Sirius was looking rather down.

"So you're not a Chaser," James said bracingly as they touched down. "And you should probably steer clear of Seeker, too."

"And Keeper," Sirius added with a sigh. "I'm rubbish at Quidditch."

"No you aren't," Peter said earnestly, but Sirius just snorted.

James rolled his eyes. "You can't give up until you've tried Beater! C'mon – one more game after dinner. You can be on my team!"

"Cause that way, even if I make as terrible a Beater as I do a Chaser, we won't be completely walloped?"

Laughing, James clapped him on the back. "Now you've got it!"

A smile tugged at Sirius' lips, but he shoved James playfully toward the door. "Oh, sod off, you."

James shoved him back, and the two of them wrestled each other through the door, followed by a laughing Peter. They left their brooms and their shoes just inside the door and followed the smell of roast toward the kitchen.

Before they got there, however, they were stopped by Mr. Pettigrew's voice from the sitting room.

"Peter, in here. You, too, James, Sirius."

James and Sirius froze, exchanging guarded looks. James knew they were thinking the same thing: that grim tone never meant anything good. Mrs. Potter used it when James was in trouble for some prank he'd pulled or mess he'd made or rule he'd broken, and James had a strong suspicion Sirius had already heard it more times than he could count that summer.

Peter shot them a confused look before walking into the sitting room, and with a deep breath, James and Sirius followed him. Inside, Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew stood waiting, but to James' surprise, they weren't alone. His own father was there as well.

Seeing James in the doorway, Mr. Potter smiled. "Having fun, James?"

If it had been his mother asking, James would have known it meant trouble, but since this was his father, James merely grinned. "Aren't I always?"

"What's going on?" Sirius asked suspiciously, still lingering in the doorway and eyeing the adults warily.

"You're not in trouble," Mr. Potter said, apparently recognizing Sirius' apprehension for what it was. (But then, James wouldn't expect any different in the man who'd raised him.) "I've been to see the Lupins."

James perked up at that, studying his father's face for any trace of bad news. "Are they alright?"

Mr. Potter nodded. "Remus is not feeling well, I'm afraid, but his mother assures me it's nothing serious. She wasn't aware he'd been invited over. Although with everything that's been going on, it probably just slipped his mind."

"Everything that's been going on?" Sirius asked, frowning. He finally stepped fully into the room and perched on the arm of the couch beside Peter. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"His mother has been ill," Mr. Potter explained. "She only recovered a short while before Remus began to feel out of sorts. I'm sure with a bit of rest, he'll be good as new. You'll see him on the Hogwarts Express, no doubt."

"Did you actually _see_ Remus?" James asked.

With a small smile, Mr. Potter nodded. "Only for a moment when he came down to get a glass of water, but yes, I saw him. He was looking a bit peaky, and as tired as his mother, but_—_" The man gave a teasing smile_—_ "he hasn't been spirited away by a Tengu, if that's what you're worried about."

James hadn't been worried about that at all, of course, as his father clearly knew. In all honesty, James wasn't sure what exactly _had_ prompted his question, just the vague notion that something strange was going on with his bookish friend. But if James' father said Remus was alright, then there was no reason to argue.

"Alright. Thanks, Dad."

Mr. Potter reached out to ruffle James' hair, and James twisted away, scowling. His father laughed. "Well, I'm off. See you in two weeks."

As Mr. Potter disappeared into the fireplace, Mrs. Pettigrew ushered them all into the kitchen for a much-appreciated meal.

-.-.-

After dinner, Mr. Pettigrew retrieved a heavy iron bludger and two Beater's bats and joined the boys outside. When Sirius said he wanted to try Beater, Peter's father took him aside to show him how to use the squat black bat to knock the bludger away toward the opposing team. While they talked, James spotted Mrs. Pettigrew, who peered out the kitchen window with concern etched on her face.

"Are you using the practice bludger?" she called to her husband.

Mr. Pettigrew warded off the bludger Sirius had hit his way, then shot a smile over his shoulder. "Yes, Enid."

"Pracice bludger?" Sirius asked distractedly as the bludger swerved toward him. His bat connected with a _crack_, and the bludger whizzed away.

"That's it!" Mr. Pettigrew congratulated. "A practice bludger is lighter and softer than a real one. Less likely to break bones."

Sirius pouted. "Well that's no fun."

Laughing, Mr. Pettigrew caught the bludger and pinned it against his chest. "Just for now, while you get used to playing Beater. We've got two weeks before you all leave; I'm sure you'll be ready for the real thing long before then."

"I'll be ready tomorrow," Sirius said thoughtfully, and James laughed.

"What happened to, 'I'm rubbish at Quidditch'?"

Mr. Pettigrew shook his head. "Alright, you lot. Up in the air."

James (once more astride his Nimbus), Sirius, and Peter obediently mounted their brooms and kicked off. Once they were airborne, Mr. Pettigrew released the bludger, tossed the quaffle up between James and Peter, and joined them in the air.

James snatched the quaffle and took off toward the goal posts at the north end of the yard, Peter hot on his tail. He heard the crack of a bat and rolled over to let the bludger pass over him. Sirius gave a whistle as he chased the bludger and knocked it toward Peter, who was forced to pull up to avoid a faceful of iron. This gave James the chance to shoot ahead and put the quaffle through the center hoop.

While Peter swooped down to retrieve the quaffle, James flashed Sirius a thumbs-up, then swerved to avoid the bludger.

They resumed play, Peter pelting down the pitch with the quaffle in the crook of his arm, James flying lazily alongside him. The bludger skimmed over Peter's back, and he jerked away from it, losing his focus just long enough for James to steal the quaffle and shoot back the other way.

But Mr. Pettigrew was now in control of the bludger, and he was so close that James didn't have time for any fancy flying. It caught his shoulder, and he dropped the quaffle. Peter picked it up and wheeled around. By the time James had righted himself, Peter had scored.

An hour later, as the sun began to set, Mr. Pettigrew called a halt to the game, and they all touched down, tired and sweaty, but grinning from ear to ear. It had been a close game – James and Sirius had won by just two goals. Mr. Pettigrew was an excellent Beater, James had to admit, but Sirius had held his own, even knocking Peter from his broom once. Mrs. Pettigrew had come bustling out to check for injuries, stopping the game momentarily, but Peter had been unhurt (if embarrassed), and quickly returned to the sky.

"I think we've found your true calling," James told Sirius, who grinned and puffed up at the praise.

"Yeah, I think I'm ready for the real bludger now."

Mr. Pettigrew laughed and stowed the balls back in the trunk with the second practice bludger, two regulation bludgers, and the tiny golden snitch. "I'm not sure my wife's poor nerves could handle that."

James charged inside, kicking off his shoes, and carried his Nimbus upstairs. As he opened the door to Peter's room, he received a faceful of feathers as Luftwing fluttered over to perch on his shoulder.

"Hey, boy," James crooned, spitting out several small, downy feathers. "How'd you find me?"

Luftwing merely hooted and held out his leg to which a short roll of parchment was tied. James took the letter and unrolled it, scanning the small, careful script. _James_, it read. _Your father stopped by today. I guess you were wondering why I never wrote you back. _Something had been written here and then scribbled out, and the letter continued, _I've been busy. Sorry. I'm not feeling too well right now, but your owl showed up and wouldn't let me sleep. I'll see you on September first. —Remus_

"There you are, James," Sirius said, appearing so suddenly that James jumped and startled Luftwing into the air. "What's that?"

"Letter from Remus," James said, handing the parchment over so Sirius and Peter could read it. While they did, James held out his hand to Luftwing, who merely blinked his big orange eyes and began to preen.

"Busy." Sirius scoffed. "You'd think he'd been doing his homework, not worrying about his sick mum."

James' eyes drifted to his rucksack. Buried in the bottom, he knew, was a half-finished essay for Professor Binns and his Charms book so he could look up a dozen spells for Professor Flitwick. "He probably _has_ been doing his homework," James grumbled. "But you're right, it's weird."

"He's sick," Peter said, taking the letter from Sirius and muttering something that sounded like, _lay off_.

James shrugged and plucked the parchment from Peter, ignoring the shorter boy's protests. He found a quill on Peter's desk and scrawled out a note beneath Remus' – _Don't worry about it. If you feel better, you can always floo over. —James._

Reading over James' shoulder, Sirius snorted. "Way to invite him over to Peter's house."

"Peter _already_ invited him; I'm just reminding him. And anyway, he doesn't mind, do you, Pete?"

Peter mumbled that he didn't mind at all, but James was already tying the parchment to Luftwing and carrying him to the window. "So," he said as Luftwing took off. "What next?"

-.-.-

The days flew by in a blur of Quidditch and sugar and prank planning. True to his word, Sirius supplied a long list of ideas to make the new term interesting. There were only a few kinks left to work out, and the greater portion of their midnight meetings were spent arguing over which of Sirius' pranks to pull and in what order.

During the day, James, Sirius, and Peter took it in turns to fly the Nimbus, and James continued to perfect his Quidditch moves while Sirius practiced with the bludger. Mrs. Pettigrew wouldn't let them use the regulation bludger until Mr. Pettigrew returned from work each evening to ensure no one got hurt, so while they all sported some new bruises every day, there were no lasting injuries.

They heard no more from Remus over the course of the next week, but Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew adamantly denied any plea to let the boys go and see for themselves that their friend was alright.

"He needs rest," Mrs. Pettigrew insisted on Wednesday when James asked, for the dozenth time, whether they couldn't just pop over for tea. "And Merlin knows he won't get any with you three around. Now be a dear, all of you, and go fetch your laundry. I'll do a load now and another next week before you leave for school."

Thursday found the three boys up in Peter's room after dinner, playing a game of gobstones. Rain lashed the windows, and thunder rumbled in the distance, and while James thought it was a golden opportunity to practice Quidditch in foul weather, Mrs. Pettigrew was having none of it and had locked all the brooms away, including James' Nimbus.

Mr. Pettigrew's voice drifted up the stairs and through the open door. "I've got no choice, Enid. Everyone's on edge tonight."

"This hasn't got anything to do with You-Know-Who, has it?" Mrs. Pettigrew demanded sharply. "It's the Aurors' responsibility to deal with him, not yours."

James strained his ears to hear Mr. Pettigrew's response, but the man had dropped his voice low, and James couldn't make out the words through the sloshing of the rain outside. Sirius and Peter had abandoned their gobstones to listen, as well, but their frowns confirmed that they could hear no more than James. Climbing silently to his feet, James dug in his rucksack for his invisibility cloak, and as soon as he pulled it out, his friends were at his side.

James threw the cloak over their heads, checked to make sure their feet weren't showing, and together they began to creep toward the stairs. They stopped at the landing to listen.

"Have you heard something, Phillip?" Mrs. Pettigrew was saying. "Is there going to be another attack tonight?"

Mr. Pettigrew sighed. "I wish I knew. All we've got to go on is rumors, but that's enough to frighten people. We've got to take them seriously."

After a long pause, couch springs groaned, and Mrs. Pettigrew asked, "How late will you be?"

"I expect I'll be gone all night. With any luck, they'll give me tomorrow off."

"Be safe."

"I will," Mr. Pettigrew said. James heard the sound of the couple kissing and made a face. Then Mr. Pettigrew spoke again. "I'll just say goodnight to Peter and then I'm off."

James' eyes widened, and he gestured wildly for the others to turn around and hurry back to Peter's room. They did so, closing the door with just enough time to stow the cloak under Peter's mattress and throw themselves down next to their game of gobstones before they heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," Peter said breathlessly, and James shot him a warning look before turning toward Mr. Pettigrew.

"Hey, boys," Mr. Pettigrew said, opening the door. "I have to go take care of something at work."

"You're leaving?" James asked in mock surprise.

"Unfortunately." Mr. Pettigrew ruffled Peter's hair. "You'll be in bed before I get home, so I just wanted to say goodnight."

"Okay," Peter said, fidgeting under his father's gaze. "'Night."

Mr. Pettigrew turned and walked toward the door. "Have fun."

"We will!" Sirius said.

"Don't stay up too late."

James smirked. "Us? Never."

With a laugh, Mr. Pettigrew shut the door, and his footsteps faded down the corridor. The three boys remained silent for several long moments while they listened to Mr. Pettigrew descend the stairs, say something to his wife, and move on. The door clicked shut. A _crack_ resounded through the quiet neighborhood, and to anyone unfamiliar with apparition, it might well have sounded like a thunderclap.

It wasn't until they heard Mrs. Pettigrew set about washing the dishes that the three boys dared to break their silence.

James spoke first: "They were talking about Voldemort."

"Shh!" Peter hissed, glancing around anxiously. "We aren't supposed to say his name!"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Don't be a nancy, Pete. The Ministry isn't gonna arrest you just because you say 'Voldemort.'"

Once more, Peter flinched. "We aren't even supposed to know about him. My dad says he's not allowed to say the name outside of work!"

"They're just being paranoid," James said.

"Think your dad's gonna catch him?" Sirius asked Peter thoughtfully, diving for James' rucksack and pulling out a chocolate frog. He caught the frog as it tried to hop away, then checked the card. "Hey, look! Elfindork Endowynn! Haven't got him yet. James?" he asked hopefully, waving the card.

James wrinkled his nose, remembering the events of his first year at Hogwarts. As far as James was concerned, he never needed to hear another word about Endowynn _or_ del Bene. "You can have it."

-.-.-

James woke to a distant crack. He opened his eyes and squinted toward the window on the far wall, through which a stretch of palest pink sky was visible. With a groan, James rolled over and buried his face in his pillow, but before he could fall back to sleep, he heard a door close and voices drifting up from somewhere below.

Mr. Pettigrew was home.

For one long moment, James deliberately ignored the almost-intelligible conversation. Then his curiosity got the better of him and he grabbed his spectacles from the bedside table. As he lowered his feet to the floor, he glanced at Sirius' and Peter's sleeping figures, wondering if he should rouse them. He decided against it.

James made his way to the top of the stairs, then hesitated. He could hear Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew's voices; they sounded like they were coming from the sitting room. Holding his breath, James began the slow, careful climb down the staircase.

A hand on his arm nearly made him jump out of his skin, and James whirled around to see Sirius and Peter behind him. Sirius released James and pressed a finger to his lips. At James' questioning glance, Sirius pointed to the step James had been about to place his foot on, and James nodded in understanding – there was a squeaky board in that stair. He lowered himself slowly to the step beyond, and heard his friends following close behind.

Before long, they reached the ground floor and slipped down the corridor to the sitting room door, where they stopped to listen.

"Oh, Phillip," Mrs. Pettigrew moaned.

James' breath caught in his throat, and he shot a fearful look to Peter, who had gone white.

"I know," Mr. Pettigrew whispered. "I know."

"Who was it?"

"A muggle girl. She… she didn't make it." Mr. Pettigrew paused, shushing his wife as she let out a stifled sob. "She was just a toddler; she didn't stand a chance."

Mrs. Pettigrew drew several shaky breaths before she managed to choke out, "Did you at least catch the one who…?"

"No." Mr. Pettigrew sighed. "He was long gone by the time we caught wind of what had happened. We can't prove it was him. And the girl's parents didn't see anything – thank Merlin. The Obliviators have got a tough enough job without…"

Mrs. Pettigrew made a pained noise, and Mr. Pettigrew fell silent.

"The poor dear," she said thickly. "The poor, poor dear. I can't imagine… If it had been Peter—"

"It wasn't," Mr. Pettigrew assured her. "And it never will be, I swear to you. He will never get our son."

Footsteps sounded beyond the door, and James shoved his friends back toward the stairs. He heard the door open as they started up, taking the steps two at a time, skipping the one that squeaked, and urging each other in hushed voices to get a move on.

James was the last one into Peter's room, and he eased the door shut, wincing as it hit the jamb with a tiny _thunk_. Not waiting to see if anyone had heard, James crossed the room in two strides, dove onto his bed, stowed his spectacles under the pillow, and pulled the covers up to his chin. He could hear Sirius and Peter breathing a little too quickly in their beds and wondered whether their hearts were pounding as loudly as his.

The door opened. The corridor light clicked on.

James shut his eyes and lay still, listening to the buzz of silence that filled the house.

"They're safe," Mr. Pettigrew whispered, so faintly James wondered if he'd imagined it. A moment later, the door clicked shut, and the Pettigrews retreated downstairs.

None of the boys spoke, but James knew they lay awake, minds churning like his. A little girl had been killed that night, by a madman the Ministry couldn't catch. Those responsible for keeping the wizarding world safe dared not even say his name.

The sun was high and hot before James dragged himself out of bed.


	4. Hogwarts Again

**Chapter 4: Hogwarts Again**

At last, September first arrived. Mrs. Pettigrew spent the preceding days pestering her son and his friends to gather their things and send down the clothes they needed washed, in hopes of a smooth departure. And for once, James was ready on time. It helped, of course, that he had only a rucksack and broomstick to keep track of, as his parents were bringing his trunk and owl. So although he put off his packing until the morning of their departure, it took him mere moments to stuff his clean clothes, invisibility cloak, and untouched homework (September first fell on a Friday that year; he had all weekend at Hogwarts to finish!) into his bag.

When Mrs. Pettigrew saw that he was ready, however, she turned him right around and ordered him to help Peter and Sirius collect the rest of their things.

They left at half past ten – a quarter hour later than intended – and flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, where they saw several other families running late. The Potters had come this way the previous year, flooing to London and then walking the mile and a half to King's Cross, but Mr. Pettigrew said there wasn't time to walk and instead resorted to calling a muggle cab to take them.

This was a new experience for all three of the boys, and though Peter turned a little green at the odd, jerking motion, Sirius peered out the window in avid interest, taking great pleasure in the rumbling vibrations that he said made his teeth tickle when he leaned his forehead against the glass.

"My mum would have a hippogriff if she knew about this," he informed James in a whisper, careful not to let Peter's parents overhear. Peter himself was too busy clutching his stomach to pay attention to the conversation. "She'd rather walk than resort to this, and she _hates_ walking."

"You live in London!" James said suddenly, earning a bemused smile from Sirius.

"That's right."

James leaned past Sirius to stare out the window at the buildings flashing by. "Where in London?"

"Grimmauld Place," Sirius said dully. "Not far from here, I think. The other side of King's Cross."

"So we won't get to see the Black mansion," James said, feigning disappointment.

With a snort, Sirius shoved James off him and onto Peter's lap. "No loss there. Besides, you wouldn't be able to see it anyway. Too many charms on it. You think my folks'd let just anyone find them?"

They jerked to a stop, and James saw that they had arrived. Mrs. Pettigrew paid the driver (James was surprised she had muggle money on her, and watched in fascination as she fumbled with the odd slips of paper for several painful seconds before figuring out what the cabbie wanted), while Mr. Pettigrew unloaded the boot. James took his rucksack and broom, Sirius and Peter their trunks, and they found a luggage cart to load everything onto.

They reached the barrier that marked the entrance to Platform Nine and Three Quarters with ten whole minutes to spare, which was more than James had managed last year. Filing through what appeared to be a solid brick wall, they emerged in a noisy, bustling platform filled with students boarding the gleaming Hogwarts Express, calling out to friends, and waving to their families.

"James!"

James hardly had time to recognize his mother's voice before she swept him into a suffocating embrace.

"Hi, Mum," he gasped when she released him. Sirius was smirking, but his mirth vanished as Mrs. Potter turned her attention to him, lifting him clean off his feet with her embrace. Mr. Potter gave his son a quick squeeze and ferreted Sirius away from Mrs. Potter with an apologetic smile at the boy.

A hoot from behind drew James' attention to Luftwing, who was perched in his cage atop James' trunk. Beaming, James poked his fingers through the wires of the cage, and the owl gave him an affectionate nip.

"Have fun?" Mr. Potter asked, ruffling his son's hair.

James squirmed away from the gesture. "Loads."

"I put some treats in your trunk, Jamie," Mrs. Potter said, trying to pull him into another hug. "I hope you have a good year – and don't forget to write. You never wrote last year."

Rolling his eyes, James flashed a toothy smile. "I did _so_ write last year. Twice!"

"James…" Mrs. Potter warned, and James laughed.

"Fine. I promise I'll write you at least three times this year."

With a glance at the clock hanging overhead, Mr. Potter grabbed James' trunk and Luftwing's cage. "Let's get you on board, shall we?"

A few minutes later, after a last round of goodbyes, all three boys were loaded, and they wandered down the corridor until they came to an empty compartment. James and Sirius hefted their trunks onto the luggage racks overhead, and then James turned to help Peter lift his. When he finished, he caught Sirius starting out the window at something on the platform.

"What is it?" James asked. "Spotted Remus?"

Sirius shook himself and turned resolutely away from whatever-it-was. "No."

James pressed his face against the glass and scanned the crowd, and though he wasn't sure what he was looking for, it took just a few moments to find them: a trio of regal figures standing in the shadows near the far edge of the platform. The boy was short and wiry, with a pointed chin, gray eyes, and sleek black hair. He carried himself like a pureblood brat and wore the same self-important expression as the man and woman fawning over him. All three bore a striking resemblance to Sirius.

"That your family, mate?"

Sirius snorted in disgust. "They got him an owl."

"What?" James' eyes found the luggage cart beside the Blacks and sure enough, a petite, jet black owl was napping in a cage atop the trunk.

"Told me if I wanted a pet, I had to buy it myself, and then look what happens when _Reg_ asks."

"Reg?" Peter asked tentatively.

"Regulus," James explained, watching as the haughty boy boarded the train. "His brother."

They fell silent, and presently the train began to move, pulling away from Platform Nine and Three Quarters. James saw his parents waving at him and waved back, and then the platform was lost to view.

The aisle beyond their compartment door still teemed with students searching for familiar faces and open seats, and James studied the passing figures, hoping to catch sight of Remus. But ten minutes later, when the last figure trundled past, it was still just the three of them.

"He didn't miss the train, did he?" James asked with a frown.

Sirius crossed to the compartment door, opened it, and stuck his head into the corridor to look both ways. "I hope not. We should go look for him."

James and Peter both stood, but James shook his head. "Stay here, Pete. Just in case he comes while we're out."

Peter didn't protest, and James joined Sirius in the corridor. They turned toward the engine and set off down the rows of compartments, stopping at each to ask after Remus. Sirius took the doors on the left; James the ones on the right. Most of the people James talked to had no idea who Remus was, so James moved on.

He lingered in one doorway, however, when he saw that the other Gryffindor boys in his year were within. Frank Longbottom, with his dark, curly hair, round face, and explosion of freckles, sat on the floor exchanging Chocolate Frog Cards with Alexander Thorne, a pudgy blond with a long, red nose. A third year with a tangle of sandy brown hair by the name of Davey Gudgeon sat beyond them, talking with squat, dark-haired first year James learned was a muggle-born named Dirk Cresswell. None of them had seen Remus.

When James turned away, he saw Sirius skulking in a door down the way, an irritated scowl on his face. "—better company than this!"

Curious, James crossed to peek over Sirius' shoulder, catching a petulant retort from within the compartment:

"I can be friends with whoever I want!"

"Don't let Mum hear you say that," Sirius growled.

"Mum?" James asked, making Sirius jump. James stood on tiptoe and saw three figures gathered in the compartment. A scrawny, sallow-skinned boy with greasy black hair sweeping his shoulders glared at the pair in the doorway, while the ginger beside him tried to distract him with a whispered conversation. "Evans! Snivellus!" James called with a smirk. "How was your summer? Get much snogging in?"

Lily Evans and Severus Snape both flushed crimson, but James turned his attention to the other boy, the haughty Sirius look-alike from Platform Nine and Three Quarters. "This your brother, mate?"

The boy frowned at James. "Regulus Black." His eyes flicked to Sirius. "I thought you said you'd tossed the Potter boy?"

"I did say that, didn't I?" Sirius shrugged. "Oh, well. Got Mum off my back for a bit."

"If she finds out—"

Sirius made a sound like a growl. "You planning on telling her?"

Something flickered in Regulus' eyes, but he quickly schooled his expression and folded his arms. "Of course not!"

"Well— Oh." Sirius fell silent, then shrugged amiably. "You really could do better than these two, Reg."

"Sod off!" Regulus slammed the door in their faces, but as Sirius turned away, James saw that he was grinning.

James nudged him. "What's got you so happy?"

"Nothing," Sirius said. "Just nice to see Reg's not completely rotten yet."

"What?"

"Well, if that was Cissy, my mum would already know you and me are still friends. At least Reg knows how to keep a secret."

They soon reached the last forward compartment without coming across anyone who had seen their missing friend. They returned the way they'd come, paused at their compartment to ask Peter if Remus had come by – he hadn't – and started toward the rear of the train.

When they entered the last car with as yet no luck, James felt the first stirrings of panic and picked up his pace, pressing his face against windows and flinging open doors that had the shades drawn. He ignored the odd looks and indignant shouts that came his way, paying the strangers just enough mind to recognize that none of them was Remus before moving on.

Then – in the very last compartment – they found him, alone, already dressed in his school robes and curled up in the corner seat with his nose in a book.

Remus glanced up when the door opened, and his eyes widened minutely at the sight of his two friends shooting him twin glares. He flinched away from them and tried to hide behind his book, but Sirius snatched it away and held it above his head – well out of Remus' reach, as the spindly boy stood several inches shorter than either James or Sirius. Remus' light brown hair had been cut short over the summer, and it was plain that he had been recently ill: his fair skin was paler than normal, making the long, lumpy scars on his cheeks stand out as though they had been drawn on with pink crayons.

"What're you hiding in here for?" Sirius demanded, gesturing to the deserted compartment. "We're saving a seat for you!"

"You… are?" Remus asked, amber eyes wary.

James snatched the book away from Sirius and used it to rap Remus on the top of his head. "Of course we are. And we were worried when you didn't show up. We thought you'd missed the train."

Rubbing his head absently, Remus gawked at James as though he had never seen the bespectacled boy before. "You were _worried_? About _me_?"

"Blimey Rems," Sirius said, turning to fetch Remus' worn trunk from the luggage rack. "We're not as bad as my family, you know. Just because you aren't a blooming pureblood doesn't mean we don't care about you!"

James nodded emphatically and handed Remus his book back before leading him by the wrist out into the corridor and back toward their compartment. Remus didn't protest, although for some reason he did look a little flabbergasted that his friends had come to find him. Peter perked up when they entered, and James steered Remus toward an empty seat before helping Sirius lift Remus' trunk.

"Oof!" Sirius grunted, struggling with the trunk. "What in blazes have you _got_ in here?"

"Just some books…" Remus muttered, giving them a sheepish look. "Sorry."

"That's – urg – alright," James said, giving the trunk one final shove. "Phew! There we go. So—" He threw himself down on the seat beside Remus while Sirius collapsed across the compartment, next to Peter— "why were you hiding out at the back of the train?"

Remus mumbled something indistinct and shrugged.

"Didn't catch that, sorry," James said cheerfully.

A vivid flush crept up Remus' neck. "I said… er— n-no reason."

James rolled his eyes. "C'mon Remus, you can tell us."

"W-well," Remus stammered, staring fixedly at the cover of his book. "I… well, I… I thought you might be angry with me."

"Angry?" Sirius asked, arching his eyebrow. "Why would we be angry?"

"I didn't write back." Remus' voice had dropped so low it could barely be heard over the chugging of the train. "When you all wrote me, I didn't write back. I thought—"

"Well I didn't write you, either, technically," Sirius said with a cheeky smile. "So I've got nothing to be angry about, have I?"

James kicked Sirius in the shins and stuck his tongue out, then turned to Remus. "Your mum was sick, and then you were," he said. "I'm not angry you forgot to write."

"Me either," Peter chimed in.

Remus raised his eyes from his book and risked a glance around. "Really?"

"Really." James clapped him on the back. "So how're you feeling now? Better?"

"Better." Remus yawned, and laughed nervously. "Tired."

Sirius nodded. "Didn't get much sleep? I know what that's like. These two jarveys wouldn't quit yammering all night long."

"Hey!" James protested. "You're the one who kept bringing up new prank ideas!"

With an energetic nod, Sirius winked at Remus. "And they jumped right on board and talked for hours!"

James pounced at Sirius, dragging him to the floor, where they commenced a wrestling match that lasted until the witch with the snack trolley appeared at their compartment door. James and Peter bought a mountain of sweets each and foisted them on Remus and Sirius, who hadn't any pocket money on them. They both protested, but only until James shoved a pair of chocolate frogs in their mouths.

Some time later, after James, Sirius, and Peter had changed into their school robes, as the sky grew dark outside their window, James steered the conversation toward the prank they were planning for the first day of classes. It had been the subject of many heated debates during the two weeks spent at the Pettigrews' house: did they invite Remus to join because he was their friend, or did they keep him in the dark, in light of his well-established opposition to such troublemaking? "So, Remus," James ventured. "We realized that you've never helped us out with a prank. I mean, Peter's joined in on a few, but we kinda pulled back last year – with all the attacks and whatnot."

Remus tensed almost imperceptibly and fiddled with the cauldron cake he held in his hands. "I don't really… _do_ pranks," he said nervously.

"That's okay!" James assured him. "We don't want to force you, just – if you ever want to – er – you're always welcome to…"

Rolling his eyes, Sirius took over. "What he means is, we're friends, and friends don't keep secrets. Not from each other."

"Exactly!" James beamed. "No secrets… Of course, keeping secrets _for_ each other – that's a different story. You… er… aren't going to rat us out, are you?"

Remus' eyes flicked from one boy to the next. James noticed the rigid set of Remus' shoulders, but a moment later, Remus shook his head. "I won't tell anyone," he murmured, dropping his eyes. "Promise."

"Alright then!" James said brightly. "Now that that's settled, who's up for exploding snap?"

-.-.-

It wasn't much longer before they arrived at Hogwarts. As per usual, they were instructed by a disembodied voice to leave their luggage on the train, as it would be taken to their rooms during the Welcoming Feast. James was tempted to take his new Nimbus with him, to ensure no harm befell it, but Sirius dragged him away, assuring him that nothing catastrophic would happen to his baby.

An abundance of black carriages stood waiting nearby, and the four boys boarded one.

"How d'you suppose they make these move?" Sirius asked as it lurched into motion. "There aren't any horses or hippogriffs or anything to pull them."

James tweaked back the curtains to watch the strange, lolling motion of the carriages around them. "Probably some charm," he said. "Same as with the boats the first years take."

"The boats aren't charmed," Remus said, peering out his own window. "The merpeople in the lake send tadfoals to pull them."

"Tad-whats?" Sirius asked.

"Tadfoals. Young hippocamps." Seeing that the other three were giving him blank stares, Remus sighed. "Water horses. They're normally found in the Mediterranean, but a former Headmistress of Hogwarts was on unusually good terms with the merpeople here, and when they said they wanted to raise a herd, the Headmistress arranged it."

"Really?" James asked. "Where'd you learn that?"

"_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. I saw a third year reading it last winter, and she said it was required for Care of Magical Creatures."

"But we can't take that till next year."

Remus turned pink. "It looked interesting…"

Laughing, Sirius turned back to the window. "So, did that book mention any invisible horses?"

"Yes."

Sirius spun around. "What— Really?"

"Yes." Remus laughed at the look on Sirius' face. "Thestrals. They say only people who've witnessed death can see them."

"Creepy," James muttered. A shiver ran up his spine as he glanced at the empty space before each carriage. He tugged the curtain back into place and tried not to think about death-horses.

"D'you think we've got a new Defense professor?" Peter asked, obviously in agreement with James. He shuddered and stared at the closed curtains.

Sirius shrugged, leaving his curtain open until James leaned over to close it. "I should think _so_," Sirius said, swatting James' hand away. "Seeing as our last one died. I'm not sure I'd like another ghost professor, not if he's like Binns."

"At least Binns doesn't pay attention," James argued. "I bet you could write anything and still get good marks on his essays."

Sirius scoffed. "Not likely."

"We'll see." James smirked. "I'm planning on scribbling down a load of hokum with a few names and dates tossed in. I bet you a galleon he won't even notice."

"You're on!"

"You haven't finished your essay?" Remus frowned. "James, you had all summer!"

James held up his hands in a helpless gesture. "Didn't have time."

"Besides," Sirius added. "We've got all weekend to finish our homework."

Remus groaned. "Not you, too. Did _you_ finish, at least?" he asked Peter.

"Er… Mostly…"

They were saved having to explain themselves to Remus when the carriages came to a halt and the students all piled out and streamed toward the massive castle that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. All thoughts of homework forgotten, the four boys joined the press of bodies and made their way through the oaken double doors into the Entrance Hall, and from there into the cavernous Great Hall, whose ceiling glimmered with stars and a waning half moon.

As always, four long house tables ran the length of the Hall with the professors looking down on them from the head table. James' eyes immediately found the new face that sat beside Professor Slughorn, the jovial Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House. The newcomer was old and immensely frail-looking, with sparse white hair and overlarge spectacles perched on the end of his beak-like nose. A dour frown creased his features, and he resolutely ignored whatever conversation Slughorn was trying to strike up.

James and his friends made their way to the Gryffindor table on the far right, where they joined Frank, Alexander, Davey, and a number of other familiar faces.

Eventually, the new first years filed in and stood at the front of the Hall while the Sorting Hat sang a song of its own composition – different than the previous year's, James thought, but he had been too excited at the time to remember much of what had happened before his own Sorting.

James didn't know any of the students up for Sorting well, although he recognized a few from parties his parents had taken him to over the years. And, of course, there was Dirk Cresswell, whom James recognized from the train, and Regulus Black.

Regulus was one of the first to be Sorted, and though Sirius feigned disinterest, James didn't miss the way his eyes followed Regulus' path to the stool, or the way Sirius mumbled, _Ravenclaw_, over and over under his breath while they waited for the Sorting Hat's proclamation. Sirius had once told James that he hoped his brother wouldn't end up in Slytherin, and that Ravenclaw was the only other house his family was likely to be okay with.

But the Sorting Hat soon shouted, "SLYTHERIN!" and Regulus made his way to the seat beside his cousin Narcissa, a fair-haired seventh year with a prefect's badge pinned to her robes. She smiled and hugged Regulus, while her boyfriend and Head Boy, Lucius Malfoy, leered at Sirius. Sirius pretended not to notice.

The Sorting went on, with Dirk Cresswell joining the Gryffindors. James cheered along with the rest of the table, but his heart wasn't in it, and he watched Sirius playing with his flatware.

James knew Sirius too well to try talking to him about his brother just then, but neither could he force himself to pay attention to anything else until the food appeared on their table, at which point everyone (Sirius included) dug in with gusto.

A few feet away, the Gryffindor house ghost, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, whom everyone called Nearly-Headless Nick because of the botched decapitation that had killed him, was telling a group of fourth years about the Welcoming Feasts in his days at Hogwarts, which had been much more formal than the modern day. Apparently the evening had culminated in a grand ball, one of four each year.

"The masquerade on All Hallows' Eve was quite the spectacle," Nick said. "Why, one year, a group of us devised a charm to make ourselves appear like ghosts for the evening. Of course, I didn't think to make myself headless—"

"Nearly headless," James corrected.

Nick's good humor faltered, and he shook his head. "Er, yes, that's right. I didn't think to make myself _nearly_ headless back then."

"Course not. If you had any Seer blood in you, you'd've avoided the bungler who tried to decapitate you, eh?"

Sirius laughed along with James at Nick's strained smile, and the two of them turned to the first years sitting nearby to relate the tales of their own exploits the previous year. James caught the prefect Eliot Donovan scowling at them and waved at the pimple-faced boy.

"I hope you aren't corrupting anyone, Potter, Black," Eliot warned. "We just got rid of the Prewetts, you know."

Louise Holoway, the new Head Girl, looked up from her conversation and smiled at Eliot. "Still holding out for a House Cup victory?"

Eliot grunted as reply.

"Well I don't know about that," James said. "But I do plan on winning the Quidditch Cup this year."

A petite brunette with a heart-shaped face leaned around Eliot to study James. "You're going to try out? What position?"

"Chaser."

The girl's eyes lit up. "Any good?"

With a grin, James shrugged. "Maybe. You're on the team?"

"Yeah. April Rohrs." She held out her hand, and James shook it. "Captain and Seeker. Anyway, I need a couple good Chasers. Richard and Steve both graduated last year."

"Well, I'll definitely be at tryouts. Any openings for Beaters?"

April shook her head. "I mean, it's an open tryout, so maybe, but our Beaters are strong, and they've worked together for two years already, so I'm not expecting to replace them."

James shot Sirius a glance, but Sirius waved his hand. "Don't worry, James, I'll survive."

"The Beater?" April asked with a smile.

Sirius chuckled. "I guess you could call me that, but I'd never played until two weeks ago – still haven't played a real game."

April looked affronted. "Never played? What kind of poor, deprived place did you grow up in? Oh!" She gasped, hands flying to her mouth in horror. "Sorry, you aren't a muggle-born, are you? I didn't mean—"

"Muggle-born?" Sirius laughed. "Oh, my mother would love that. No, I grew up in a hell-hole known as the Noble House of Black."

"Black?" April asked, and the name rippled down the table. "_You're_ Sirius Black?"

"Just Sirius."

"Sirius, then." She smiled. "I like your attitude. You should come try out. I may not need a Beater now, but Kendrick's a seventh year. If you're any good, I'll put you on reserve. You can practice with Kendrick and Harvey, and next year…" She shrugged.

Grinning, Sirius nodded. "Alright. See you at tryouts."

At the head table, Professor Dumbledore stood and held up his hand for silence. Every head turned toward the silver-haired wizard, and conversations quickly petered out.

"Once again," Dumbledore said, his voice booming through the Great Hall, "I welcome you all to Hogwarts. Before I send you off to bed, I have a few announcements to draw to your attention. First, may I introduce Professor Lynx, who has kindly come out of retirement to fill our Defense post."

The old man in question scowled as several students began to applaud and glared at each until the Hall fell silent once more.

Dumbledore smiled warmly and continued. "Mr. Filch has posted an updated list of banned items outside his office, and I encourage you all to peruse it at your leisure. I would also like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is strictly off-limits to all students, as is the Whomping Willow." He paused here, and James had a sudden, terrible thought – but Dumbledore couldn't know... Could he?

The previous year, Sirius and James had dared each other to brave the Willow's sweeping branches and touch the trunk. The game had quickly spread, until half of their year, along with a few older students, were in on the bet, or at least in on keeping it secret from those who would put an end to it. After the attacks had started, however, James and Sirius had lost interest, though some of the others had kept it going. James wondered whether there were any plans to reinstate it this year.

"Quidditch tryouts will be held at the end of next week," Dumbledore continued. "Those interested should contact Madam Hooch."

James grinned excitedly at April, who laughed into her hand and winked back.

"And with that," said Dumbledore, "I bid you all good night."


	5. The Invitation

**Chapter 5: The Invitation**

James, Sirius, and Peter spent all day Saturday preparing for Monday's prank. Sirius had found the spell they would need in his family's library ("There was bound to be _one_ decent book mixed in with all the blood-purist rubbish!"), and the three of them had begun to work on it at Peter's house. If there was one good thing about not being a muggle-born, it was that living in a wizarding family meant you could get away with underage magic during holidays.

Nevertheless, it took several hours of additional practice before James and Sirius could pull off the spell every time, and more still before Peter managed even half of his attempts.

Remus spent the day in the library, though for the life of him, James couldn't figure out why. Clearly Remus had already finished the summer homework, and they hadn't had class yet to get more… James wondered if he'd gone to the professors and asked for advanced work or some such madness.

When Remus saw his friends, however – in the morning, at meals, and once in passing as James, Sirius, and Peter carried a load of snacks from the kitchens to their preferred practice room hidden on the fifth floor – he reminded them that they still had homework to do and warned them not to put it off. The trio, of course, ignored him, and moved on from prank preparation on the fifth floor to a game of wizard's chess between James and Sirius in the Gryffindor common room.

James hardly looked up as the Fat Lady's portrait, which guarded the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, swung outward on its hinges, but Peter called out a greeting to Remus, who answered in kind.

"Ha!" James said, ordering one of his castles forward. "Check!" James' black pieces gave tiny cheers as Sirius' white ones wailed in dismay and began clamoring for Sirius' attention so they could advise him on his next move.

"Take that castle with your bishop," Remus said, joining Peter on the couch. "You'll have him in two more moves."

Sirius blinked at the board. "Really?"

"Trust me."

Shrugging, Sirius followed Remus' advice, and James stared at the board in a panic, trying to figure out what Remus was talking about and, more importantly, how to prevent it. He tentatively moved his remaining castle forward to take the bishop.

Sirius glanced to Remus.

"Take it with your knight."

Sirius obeyed.

"Check," said Remus. "And you only have one legal move, James, so go ahead and take his knight."

James hesitated, scouring the board for another alternative, but Remus was right. He had to take that knight.

Remus was smiling now. "And queen to C6."

"C6?" Sirius asked blankly.

Smile slipping, Remus rolled his eyes. "Third row, next to his king. You've got a castle covering his escape to the right, and he can't take your queen without exposing his king to your bishop. I believe that's checkmate."

"Re-_mus_!" James whined, as Sirius laughed triumphantly. "You aren't supposed to help him win!"

"I'll help you next time," Remus said with a smile. "Now, have you started your homework yet?"

And no matter how they tried to worm their way out of it, Remus wouldn't relent. Under his watchful eye, the other three reluctantly sat down with parchment, quill, and textbook and began working on their History of Magic essay. It was something about the creation of magical creature classifications, and what was meant by the terms Being, Beast, and Spirit.

James was the first to set down his quill several hours later and declare he was finished. Almost before the words were out of his mouth, Remus snatched up the essay and began to read it, a frown growing ever more pronounced on his face.

"James, half of this doesn't make any sense."

"Told you I was just gonna make stuff up, didn't I?" James asked, grinning.

Remus rolled his eyes and tossed the parchment back onto the table. "You're going to get a zero on that."

With a shrug, James slid the essay into his school bag. "You never know." He made to stand up, but Remus gave him a sharp look. "What?"

"Have you done your Charms homework?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

James sighed. "No, but I _have_ done Transfigurations."

Sirius looked up in surprise. "No kidding?"

"What? Transfigurations is actually interesting."

"So's Charms," Sirius argued. "Plus, Flitwick let us off easy this summer. It only took me ten minutes to do his assignment."

"Great. Peter, you finished Potions yet?"

Unlike his friends, Peter was not an especially bright student, needing a considerable amount of help from James and Sirius to master the various spells they learned. But when it came to Potions, they found their positions reversed: while James, Sirius, and Remus were all average potioneers, at best, Peter took naturally to the subject, a fact in which he took great pride.

"I've got it in my trunk," Peter said breathlessly. "Why?"

James grinned. "I'm just thinking. I've got Transfigurations done, Sirius has Charms, and you, Pete – you've got Potions."

"You are _not_ copying each other's homework," Remus said, sounding appalled.

"Why not?" James asked.

Scowling, Remus shut his book and sat upright in his seat. "First off, the professors aren't stupid. They'll know in half a second that you copied. Secondly – how do you expect to learn?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Not by writing essays, that's for sure."

Remus merely glared at them, until James sighed.

"Fine, no copying. But I've done enough work for tonight. I'm taking a break."

With a heavy sigh, Remus turned back to the book he had been reading, and James took this as permission to do as he pleased. Unfortunately, after lugging his school bag up to the dormitory, James found he didn't _have_ anything to do; it was too dark to practice Quidditch, and with his friends stuck doing homework (or supervising, in Remus' case), he couldn't play a game or run over other prank ideas. On top of all that, Frank Longbottom and Alexander Thorne had spread out their summer homework across the dormitory floor and were comparing answers. As such, James couldn't stay there without having to listen to study-talk.

So he returned to the common room and flopped down on the couch opposite Remus.

"I'm _bored_!"

"You wouldn't be if you were doing homework," Remus pointed out.

Sirius scoffed.

For a while longer, James remained on the couch, pulling a pillow over his face and pondering the golden embroidery. But it wasn't long before he let out a dramatic moan and rolled off the couch and to his feet. Remus, Sirius, and Peter all watched him stalk to the door that led to the boys' dormitories, and when he returned with his school bag a few minutes later, they hadn't moved.

He plunked down on the floor and dug out his Charms book, grumbling about wastes of time and ruddy professors and trying his very hardest to ignore Remus' smirk.

-.-.-

In the years to come, James would swear up and down that he had put all his summer homework off until the last minute, that he had never once completed an assignment more than twelve hours before it was due. And he certainly would never let Remus Lupin coerce him into staying on top of his school work. He was James Potter, prankster extraordinaire, not some boring old bookworm!

Nevertheless, Remus' proactive habits had their merits.

For instance, after staying up to finish the last of their homework on Saturday night, the four boys found themselves quite alone in the common room, which gave them the perfect opportunity to slip out for a bit of night-time gallivanting. And though Remus declined to accompany them, James, Sirius, and Peter were able to add two new secret passages to their list when they returned.

Not only that, but the next day, James found he had far more free time than he had anticipated. As such, James gathered up a number of his friends who also happened to have the afternoon free – Sirius, Peter, Davey Gudgeon, and Rhonda Red; Roger Smith and Rachel Goodwin from Herbology and their friend Justine Munslow; and several Ravenclaws: Kingsley Shacklebolt, Margaret Thurgood, Edwin Dorcas, and Marlene McKinnon.

The odd assortment of second and third years checked out school brooms and Quidditch equipment, trekked down to the pitch, and played a few pick-up games, rotating teams each time for good measure. Several of those who had come planned to try out for their respective house teams, and they all agreed playing against each other made for good practice – and good fun.

Remus had taken up post in the stands with a book called _Astrology to Zizuphomancy: A Comprehensive Guide to Magical Foresight_. Why anyone would want to read about zizuphomancy (which sounded less like a fortune-telling technique than a sneeze) James didn't know. When dinner rolled around with Remus still perusing the dusty tome, Sirius finally voiced what they were all thinking:

"What in blazes is zi–zizo–zuzuphi—"

"Zizuphomancy?" Remus asked, peering over the top of his book.

"Yeah," said Sirius. "That."

Remus rolled his eyes and turned the page. "Zizuphomancy is a technique used by Seers to enhance their Inner Eye. You burn the leaves of the Chinese date to put yourself into a shallow trance, removing many common barriers encountered in divination."

Swallowing the hunk of bread in his mouth, James raised his eyebrow. "And you care about Shizuzumony… why?"

"Zizuphomancy," Remus said distractedly. A moment later, he marked his page with a scrap of parchment, slid the book into his bag, and began to eat. Seeing that James was still watching him expectantly, Remus rolled his eyes. "You realize we have to choose electives at the end of the year?"

"Right, sure." James nodded. "But that's ages away. Why are you reading about burning fig leaves now?"

"I can't just close my eyes and point at a list to choose what subjects I want to take," Remus said. "I figure if I start now, I'll have enough of a grasp of the options to make an informed decision when the time comes."

James, Sirius, and Peter exchanged dubious looks, but they didn't argue the point. Remus would do what he wanted, regardless of what his friends said. The four of them began to eat in earnest, and afterward they retired to the common room for an evening of unusually rowdy card games.

Monday morning came early, and four very tired Gryffindor boys arrived late to breakfast. As they loaded their plates with second helpings of bacon and toast, Professor McGonagall came around to deliver their timetables. It looked like all they had today was Herbology and Double Potions; they even had the afternoon off.

To James' surprise, a small, white envelope appeared on the table before him not five minutes later. His name had been written on the envelope in extravagant purple letters. A quick glance up and down the table showed that James was one of only three Gryffindors in his line of sight to have received such an envelope, the others being Sirius and Lily Evans. Both stared at their envelopes in surprise and mild confusion.

James flipped his envelope over and slid his fingernail under an emerald green seal bearing the initials HS. Inside, he found a square of parchment bordered with ornamental fleur-de-lis in silver. The text of the card was handwritten in thin, slanted lettering.

_Mr. J. A. Potter—_

_It is with greatest pleasure that I request your company on_

_Friday, September the 22__nd__, 1972_

_for an evening of conversation and refreshments. Please  
come to my office at 8:00 pm on the aforementioned date.  
I look forward to seeing you there._

_Cordially,_

_ —H. E. F. Slughorn_

James read the note through twice before he set it down. Sirius was still staring at his, while Remus and Peter glanced curiously from one to the other.

"A… party?" Sirius asked at last, handing his note to Remus, who scanned it with a frown and passed it on to Peter. "Slughorn's throwing a party."

"'An evening of conversation and refreshments,'" James corrected. "Sounds dreadful."

Remus frowned. "You're going, though, aren't you?"

Sirius' eyebrows shot up. "Why in Merlin's name would we want to do that?"

"A professor's sent you an invitation. You can't just ignore it."

"But you and Peter won't be there," James pointed out. "And Evans _will_. _Oh, Professor, look at me! I was just reading about the latest uses of Squicklepud Sprouts in potions. Aren't I _so_ smart?_" He snorted."It'll be so dull I may just die!"

Sirius nodded in agreement. "We could be doing something useful instead of going to this crummy party. Like pranking Cissy and Malfoy!"

Remus gave his friends a suspicious frown, but James waved off his concern. "Not today, Remus. This one's all in good fun, I swear."

"Speaking of which…" With a grin, Sirius scanned the Great Hall. All the timetables had been passed out, and the professors had returned to the head table, where they were too absorbed in their own conversations to notice what the students were doing. "Alright, boys. Wands out!"

James, Sirius, and Peter all drew their wands, and Remus sighed, staring determinedly at his plate, raising a hand to shade his eyes as though afraid to see what his friends were planning. James laughed and gave a short nod.

James focused on a spiky-haired Ravenclaw by the name of Chris Stebbins, muttered the spell under his breath, and gave his wand a lazy swish. For a moment, the black fabric of Chris' school robes rippled like water, and then it began to change. White and gray polka-dots erupted across his back of his robes, which had sprouted patches of velvety fuzz and begun to lighten. Next moment, Chris sat at the Ravenclaw table in a blue, spotted dressing gown, gray pajamas, and bright yellow slippers.

Peter had done the same thing to Scott Adrian at the Hufflepuff table, who now wore a plain black outfit and pajamas, and Sirius had given Lucius Malfoy a pink tartan ensemble.

Before the victims had a chance to realize what had happened, the three boys fired off another round of spells, and another, hitting all four houses equally. When Remus finally glanced up to see what the growing murmur was about, James took the opportunity to transfigure his shabby robes into a plush maroon getup. Remus rolled his eyes and went back to eating.

Soon enough, the professors began to notice, as students leaped up in surprise or began to laugh at their friends' new outfits. Still James, Sirius, and Peter fired off spells, until half the hall was dressed for a lazy day off. They each transfigured themselves, of course, and Sirius even dared to target McGonagall as she rose from her seat. Peter made a small, frightened sound, but James, who saw the caretaker Argus Filch glowering in a corner, gave the scraggly man a lime green, leopard-print dressing gown, and then proceeded to laugh as his cat, Mrs. Norris, hissed and spat at him.

"Huh," Sirius mused. "I thought she'd like what I picked out for her."

James turned and caught a glimpse of McGonagall's clothes, spotted with the Gryffindor crest and tiny snitches, before she transfigured them back into her usual stately green attire. She turned in a huff to say something to Professor Dumbledore. But Dumbledore merely laughed, waved his wand, and changed his own robe into a garish violet dressing gown. A peek under the table showed that he was now wearing fuzzy bunny slippers.

"He's the best headmaster ever," Sirius snickered, and James had to agree.

Dumbledore stood and raised his hands for silence. "It would seem some of our number have decided that on this first day of classes, a more casual dress code is in order." His blue eyes lingered on James, Sirius, and Peter as he spoke, but there was a note of amusement in his voice, and he quickly moved on. "You all have half an hour before the start of classes, and I strongly encourage you to take the chance to run back to your dormitories and change out of your school robes, if you so desire."

The students laughed, and several stood immediately to follow Dumbledore's advice. James and Sirius whistled and cheered, at which the Headmaster merely smiled his serene smile and nodded sagely.

"So, whaddaya think, Remus?" James asked slyly, nudging his friend.

Rolling his eyes, Remus swallowed the last of his toast. "I think you lot have an unhealthy affinity for bright colors." As he spoke, he waved his wand, and James' work was replaced with a plain fleece dressing gown in chocolate brown. "But I'm not opposed to spending the day in my pajamas, especially with the Headmaster's blessing."

-.-.-

Pajamas and dressing gowns weren't exactly practical clothes, as James quickly discovered in Herbology, where short, cheery Professor Sprout set the class to work at once, digging around in piles of soil for Burrowing Scotchpods. The slippery little buggers looked like raisins with four fuzzy legs, and Professor Sprout informed the class that the Scotchpods had to be transferred to shallow seed dishes soon, or they would burrow so deeply that they wouldn't germinate.

By the end of class, everyone was dirt-covered from head to toe, despite the cotton smocks Sprout had provided. Thankfully, Remus had learned a new spell, _Scourgify_, which he used to clean them all off as they trekked inside for Double Potions.

Professor Slughorn started off class with roll call. Most of the names he read with a bored tone, but when he reached Sirius Black, Lily Evans, James Potter, and Severus Snape in turn, a smile crossed his face and his voice acquired a rather alarming measure of fondness, which did not go unnoticed by the rest of the class. James caught people eyeing him at intervals for the rest of the class, particularly the Slytherins.

"Probably jealous their Head likes us better than them," Sirius muttered as he chopped up rat liver for their fever potion.

"It's strange, though, don't you think?" James said, stirring the frothy pink liquid. "Three Gryffindors and only one Slytherin? You think it has to do with the invitations?"

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. "Does it matter? I don't plan on going."

Unfortunately, they weren't going to get off so easily. At the end of class, Professor Slughorn told them to bring a sample forward and pack up. Then, before James and Sirius could slip away, Slughorn called them back, along with Lily and Snape.

"I trust you four received my invitations this morning?" Slughorn asked after the last of Lily's friends finally scuttled out of the dungeon.

All four of them nodded, staring suspiciously at one another.

"Yes, Professor," Lily said at length. She hesitated, then rushed on. "Pardon me for asking, sir, I know this is terribly rude of me, but… what exactly _is_ it that you've invited us to?"

Slughorn chuckled. "Not at all, dear, not rude at all. I like to hold little parties every now and then, you see. For a small group of my best students."

James could see that Lily was fighting very hard not to let her incredulity show on her face, but she didn't seem to be having much success. Snape, in contrast, scoffed aloud.

"Best students?" he asked, lip curling. "_Those_ two?"

"Yes indeed, Severus, m'boy." Slughorn beamed around at them. "Anyway, I'm sure you are eager to get to lunch. I just wanted to make sure you can all make it on the twenty-second."

James racked his brain for some excuse he could use to get out of the party, but nothing came to him, and Slughorn clapped his hands together.

"Wonderful. I look forward to it."

* * *

**A/N: Regulus Black has been Sorted into Slytherin, but that doesn't mean Sirius is ready to give up on him. Chapter 5 of _Padfoot's Story_, "Odd Man Out," is up!**


	6. Quidditch Tryouts

**Chapter 6: Quidditch Tryouts**

When James woke up on Tuesday morning, Remus had already left, along with Frank Longbottom and Alexander Thorne. Reluctantly, James set about waking his other two friends. Peter obediently rolled out of bed and began to dress, but Sirius seemed utterly oblivious to James flicking his ear and calling his name. After a quarter hour of fruitless effort, James gave up, and together he and Peter trekked down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"You just left him there?" Remus asked, frowning.

Reaching for a pot of jam, James raised his eyebrow. "'Just left him there?' I'd like to see _you_ try to wake him up."

"What if he misses breakfast?"

"We'll grab some toast for him," James assured Remus, waving his knife dismissively and splattering jam across the table. "And we can always go to the kitchens later."

Remus grabbed a napkin to wipe a glob of jam that had landed on his sleeve. "And if he misses class?"

"He won't mind."

"But we've got McGonagall first thing," Peter pointed out nervously. "What if she gives him detention?"

With a sigh, James bit into his toast. "Fine, fine," he grumbled. "If he isn't down here by half eight, we'll go drag him out of bed, alright?"

In the end, they didn't have to go in search of Sirius, who turned up at eight twenty-five with a split lip and a sour expression. He stalked over to where his friends sat, grabbed a Danish from Peter's plate, and glared at James.

"Thanks for the wake-up call, mate," he grumbled.

James hardly heard him. "What happened?" he asked instead. "You get into a fight?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Was it Snivellus?" he pressed. "You want to get him back later?"

Sirius didn't answer, but Remus frowned reproachfully at them both. "James, it's the second day of term! Do you really want to land yourself in detention again so soon?"

Peter, meanwhile, was staring at Sirius with a look of mingled fear and awe. "Does it hurt?"

"No," Sirius grunted.

"What happened?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it." Sirius sounded angry, angrier than James thought he ought to be after a simple fight with Severus Snape, but Peter seemed not to notice.

"How come?"

With something like a growl, Sirius tossed his half-eaten Danish on the table. "I just don't." He stood, snatched up his schoolbag, and turned away from them. "See you in class."

Transfigurations passed in awkward silence as Sirius pretended not to see his friends' passed notes and pointed looks, and even Professor McGonagall seemed to find Sirius' lack of disruptive behavior odd. She kept shooting him suspicious glances as she lectured, but Sirius ignored her as resolutely as he ignored his friends.

At lunch, James deliberately steered the conversation away from the events of that morning, and Sirius slowly recovered from his foul mood. When they left the Great Hall for their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Professor Lynx, things were nearly back to normal.

James had not seen the new professor in the corridors or at meals since the Welcoming Feast, and he wasn't in the room when the four boys arrived, but five minutes later, the stooped old man hobbled down the stairs from his office, leaning heavily on the banister.

He was extremely wrinkled with twisted and knobbly hands, and though he couldn't have stood much more than four feet tall, his heavy olive-colored robes stopped several inches above his skinny ankles. The spectacles perched at the very tip of his beak-like nose were so thick and round that they looked like a pair of saucers connected by a thin gold wire, and his small, colorless eyes squinted at the class over the top of the lenses.

"Humph."

The class exchanged confused glances as Professor Lynx stumped toward his desk and rifled through his drawers for several minutes before addressing them.

"Let's get somethin' straight." Professor Lynx spoke as though he were continuing an argument that had been going on for far too long. "I'm not here to babysit a bunch of wizard spawn, or to hold your hands when you stub your toe. I'm no teacher, so I don't wanna hear any of you callin' me Professor. You call me Lynx, or you call me sir. Got it?"

The class nodded.

"Good. Another thing – this isn't a class. It's training. That means no books, no notes, no essays – rubbish, all of it! The only thing I'm gonna teach you is how to survive. You wanna skive off, skulk about with your little friends?" Lynx snorted. "Go right ahead. I won't come to your funeral."

He paused, as though waiting for someone to walk out. No one moved.

"That's what I thought." He grabbed a glass jar from a shelf and slammed down on his desk so that the yellowish blobs inside bobbed about. "Anyone know what these are?"

No one answered.

"They're Aurors," Lynx growled. "What's left of them, at any rate. Blown to pieces, skinned alive, torn bit by bit into bloody lumps of flesh." He gave the jar a shake and an eyeball swiveled into view. More than one student turned green.

Sirius, on the other hand, grinned. "That's disgusting!" he muttered with relish.

Lynx whirled and flung a stub of chalk at Sirius, hitting him square between the eyes so that the boy yelped in surprise and pain. "Rule one," Lynx said, still glaring at Sirius. "No pointless chatter. You walk through that door, you listen to me, you practice what I tell you to practice. That's it." He let his glare travel from one terrified face to another, daring someone to defy him.

James was happy to oblige. "But what if we have questions, sir?"

Another piece of chalk appeared in Lynx's hand, and James flinched involuntarily. But Lynx didn't throw it. "You got a question, you raise your hand and wait for me to call on you."

"I thought you weren't a teacher," James said under his breath. The piece of chalk hit him on the nose.

"These Aurors," Lynx said, as though he hadn't been interrupted, "were better wizards than you lot by far. That didn't stop them dyin'. I've seen things that'd make you soil your trousers, and I've not even seen the worst of it. There's a lot of dark stuff in the world, and you're a long way from competent. I'm gonna move fast. You can't keep up, you find someone else to go snivelin' to. Now, wands out."

What followed was both the most interesting and the most aggravating lesson James had ever sat through. In the space of an hour, Lynx covered what he considered to be the bare necessity of defensive spells. James, Sirius, and Peter had taught themselves _Expelliarmus_, the disarming spell, the previous year, and it seemed Remus and Lily had read up on it as well, as all five of them succeeded within moments of Lynx's demonstration.

_Locomotor Mortis_, the Leg-Locker Curse, was equally achievable, and James had to wonder why he hadn't been using this against Slytherins all along.

The real problem came with Lynx's third "basic" defensive spell, _Protego_. According to Lynx, the spell should produce a semi-clear, spherical shield that would ward off most low-level jinxes, hexes, and curses. But try as they might, none of the second years could manage it. Remus' face was set in a blank mask as he repeated the spell over and over with little effect, and across the room, Lily Evans was on the verge of angry tears as feeble white sparks issued from the tip of her wand.

Alexander Thorne and Mary Macdonald watched the futile attempts drearily from the corner where they were paired together to practice _Expelliarmus_, as did Greta Catchlove and Tracy Lewis, who had just moved on to _Locomotor Mortis_. James thought that everyone looked rather like they wanted to complain, but were all afraid to do so.

The whole time, Lynx looked on from his post in the center of the room, berating their terrible posture and idiotic pronunciation and spastic wand movements.

When at last the bell rang, they all dashed out into the corridor and traveled back to the common room in a pack.

"What a creep!" Alice Howard said with a shiver, glancing over her shoulder as though expecting to see Lynx behind her.

Alexander nodded emphatically. "What was he trying to do, intimidate us into not dying?"

"I hate him— I really do!" Greta added, latching onto Tracy, who gave her a sympathetic smile. "That class is the worst!"

"Oh, come on," Frank said bracingly. "It's not that bad." The girls all shot him withering looks, and he flinched. "At least he knows his stuff. We could have some complete git teaching us instead; how'd you like that?"

Sirius fell into step beside Frank and slung an arm around his shoulders. "You're right, Frank. Lynx _isn't_ so bad. Just a bit round the twist – more fun that way, don't you think?"

Frank rolled his eyes, but James just laughed. He rather thought he would have enjoyed the lesson if it hadn't been so much work.

"Round the twist?" Lily said suddenly from the back of the group, where she and Remus were sulking side-by-side. Her face had flushed to an ugly purple, and her green eyes were bright with unshed tears. "He's absolutely _mental_!"

James snorted. "Cool it, Evans. Just because you couldn't do that spell—"

"You couldn't do it either, Potter!" Lily snapped.

A shrug was the only indication James gave that he had heard her. "—doesn't mean the teacher's doing a rubbish job."

"Not teacher," Sirius corrected with a smirk. "_Trainer_."

"Right." James nodded. "Trainer. And what's got you so glum, Remus?"

Remus jumped a little at being addressed and shrugged, staring at the ground. "I'm just trying to figure him out."

"Lynx?" Sirius asked.

Remus nodded. "I know _Protego_ is a useful spell and all, but we aren't supposed to learn that until fourth year, at least! He can't honestly expect any of us to master it."

The group slowed their pace to gape at Remus, who flushed and ducked his head. Then, everyone started talking at once:

"_Fourth _year?"

"Blimey! No wonder I couldn't get it!"

"He _has_ gone barmy!"

"I hate him! I really, really hate him!"

They kept up a steady stream of complaints the rest of the way back to Gryffindor Tower, where they finally broke off, some to do homework, others to blot out thoughts of Lynx and his unfair expectations with mindless diversions.

-.-.-

The rest of the week passed uneventfully, although tempers ran high in Defense on Friday. The second years had had their first Astronomy class Thursday night, and the lack of sleep made them even less willing to put up with Lynx's cold criticism than they might have been. The hour closed without a single successful Shield Charm (although everyone had at least mastered the other two spells), and Lynx irritably instructed them all to work harder. As they filed out, he warned them that anyone who failed to block a jinx by the end of class on Tuesday would spend their evenings in his office until they succeeded.

And so they entered the weekend in low spirits, resentfully muttering _Protego_ every chance they got. Lily and Remus even formed a kind of study group in the common room to practice. James and Sirius refused to participate on principle ("How can you study if it's not a class?" James asked smugly), but they did claim a space by the window to use for their own practice.

Sometime around ten, Greta let out a strangled scream, hurled her wand across the common room, startling a group of fifth years reading through their Transfigurations book, and sprinted for the stairs to the girls' dorms. A few seconds later, a door slammed.

For several seconds, the second years stood in awkward silence. Then, as one, they resumed their practicing. The evening wore on, and one by one, they gave up and headed for bed. When at last James, Sirius, and Peter stumbled toward the stairs, only Remus and Lily remained.

-.-.-

Saturday arrived, bringing with it an air of anticipation. Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts were to be held at one o'clock, and James could hardly think of anything else. Remus tried to convince him to practice for Defense, but James kept getting distracted. Every few minutes, he would run to the window to check the weather, or to the dormitory to reassure himself that his Nimbus was in working order. Sirius and Peter were soon infected by his nervous energy, and in the end Lily chased the three of them from the common room so they would stop disrupting her focus.

With nothing to do but wander around, James and his friends headed outside. It was a nice day – cool, but not cold; just a bit cloudy. Perfect Quidditch conditions.

A shout and a chorus of laughter drew James' attention to the Whomping Willow, the large, thrashing tree growing on a ridge that overlooked the lake. A small crowd had gathered around the Willow – mostly third years, along with a few second years no doubt taking a much-needed break from Shield Charms.

As James watched, a figure separated from the group and darted toward the tree, weaving to and fro as the Willow's branches came tearing toward him, creaking and groaning like an old house in a windstorm. The figure ducked under a branch as thick as his waist, but another one caught him behind the knees. He landed flat on his back and scrambled to safety amidst another chorus of catcalls and jeers.

James ambled over, followed by Sirius and Peter, and joined the ring of students.

"Hey – James! Sirius!"

A second year Hufflepuff named Rachel Goodwin, a girl with frizzy red hair and a band of freckles across her nose, waved at them from across the crowd. "You want in on the bet again, right?"

"That's still going on?" James asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Rachel said cheerily. "The pot's up to thirty galleons now."

Sirius' eyes bulged. "Really? Count me in! James?"

"Sure, why not." James hesitated as Chris Stebbins took a blow to the gut and flew back into Edwin Dorcas. "Er, but I'll wait until after Quidditch tryouts to give it a go."

"Suit yourself." Sirius grinned and rushed forward to brave the Whomping Willow.

-.-.-

James tried to eat slowly at lunch, but he found he couldn't. At a quarter past twelve, after wolfing down a club sandwich and a handful of biscuits, he sprinted up to the dormitory for his broom, not bothering to wait for Sirius, who seemed to have no problem eating normally.

He arrived at the Quidditch pitch half an hour early; only April Rohrs was there, dressed in her Quidditch robes, scanning a list of the students signed up to try out. She spoke without glancing up from the page.

"Well _someone's_ eager."

James grinned. "You bet I am!"

She laughed and set down the list so she could tie back her long, curly brown hair. She was short and slender – the perfect Seeker build – with sharp blue eyes and quick, sure motions. "I like you, kid," she said. Then, suddenly, she rolled her eyes. "It's about _time_!"

James frowned, but his confusion lasted only a moment before April turned around to face the four figures emerging from the locker rooms.

"How'd you…" James began.

April smiled, but it was one of the newcomers who answered, a burly boy with a mop of blond hair atop his head and an incredibly square jaw: "We think she has eyes in the back of her head. Literally."

A broad-shouldered, short-haired girl with olive skin and a boyish face snorted. "Or an Intruder Charm on the pitch."

April chuckled. "And I will only reveal my secret to the next captain. Anyway, where've you lot been? You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago!"

"A whole ten minutes?" gasped a wiry boy with bushy eyebrows.

"Oh, get stuffed, McLaggen," April grumbled, before turning and catching sight of James. "Introductions, right. Everyone, James Potter, Chaser."

The broad-shouldered girl beamed. "Margret Salano," she said, thrusting out her hand, which James shook heartily. "I'm a Chaser, too."

"Harvey Cross," said the burly blond, then elbowed the thickset, dark-skinned boy beside him. "And Kendrick Hattan. Beaters."

"And the cheeky git over there is Wilbur McLaggen," April finished, jerking her thumb toward the last boy. "Our Keeper, until we find someone better."

McLaggen put on a wounded expression as the others laughed. April rolled her eyes and turned away to hide her smile.

Over the next several minutes, the rest of the hopefuls trickled down to the pitch – Sirius and another boy were going out for Beater; a third-year was trying for Keeper, and there were a dozen for Chaser. Most of them looked like fifth and sixth years, and James felt his heart sink. There was no way he was going to make the team with competition like this. Then he shook himself, remembering all the practice he'd put in.

Remus and Peter had come to watch (although Remus was so deeply engrossed in their reading for Transfigurations that he probably didn't even realize where he was). Peter flashed James and Sirius a thumbs-up, and the two of them forced slightly nauseated smiles.

April handed out brooms to those who needed one, and ordered them into the air for a few warm-up laps around the stadium. Two of the would-be Chasers nearly crashed halfway through the first lap, and April shouted them off the pitch.

After this, they got started with penalty shots against McLaggen. They each got five chances, but as McLaggen was no pushover, no one made all their shots. Margret Salano made four, and five others (including James) made three. The others, some of whom had missed their shots by several broomlengths, were dismissed, and April called the rest of them to the ground.

"Alright, here's how this is going to go. We're going to play a little scrimmage so I can see how you work on a team. McLaggen, north hoops. You – Torpin – south hoops. Hattan, Orson, Salano, Red, and Mitchell, you're with McLaggen. Cross, Black, Jackson, Ellerty, and Potter, you're with Torpin."

They all flew to their respective ends of the pitch and lined up. Torpin, the Keeper on James' team, looked immensely nervous, and James gave him an encouraging smile. Harvey and Sirius had already taken to each other and now began making rude gestures at the other team. James snickered and turned to his fellow Chasers. Jackson was a muscular fifth year boy with what seemed to be a permanent scowl on his face; when James wished him luck, he pretended not to hear.

"Well that's rude," James muttered, and Ellerty, a sixth year girl with a long black braid, smiled.

"Don't worry about him," she said. "Some people take this too seriously."

James raised his eyebrow. "Don't you take this seriously?"

Ellerty shrugged. "I'm just here for fun. If I don't make it, I don't make it."

Just then, April's whistle sounded, and the players sprang into action. Jackson was fast – no doubt about that. He reached the quaffle first and snatched it out of the air, pelting toward the far goals as James and Ellerty hastened after him. The opposing Chasers converged on him, and James darted past, getting into position for a pass, and waved at Jackson.

Jackson ignored him, spiraling past the Chasers and taking a shot— McLaggen caught the quaffle easily and lobbed it toward Mitchell, a dark, scrawny boy, who wheeled and headed back toward the south end of the pitch. A bludger from Harvey nearly knocked Mitchell from the broom, and he dropped the quaffle, which was picked up by Ellerty.

James fell in beside her, just as Orson knocked a bludger their way. Sirius appeared to deflect it toward Red, who dove out of the way. James and Ellerty blazed through the opening and veered in different directions to avoid Margret. McLaggen moved to block Ellerty's shot at the left hoop, but at the last second, she passed it to James, who put it through the hoop on the right.

McLaggen's team took a moment to regroup before beginning their attack. Harvey hit Mitchell with another bludger, and Kendrick took aim at James, who pulled up. The bludger soared past him to hit Ellerty.

Red and Margret were by this time nearly to the goal hoops, passing between the quaffle back and forth too quickly for Jackson to keep up. Sirius smacked a bludger toward them and missed. James rushed after them— but Red took a shot— Torpin dove toward the quaffle, brushed it with his fingertips… The quaffle soared through the hoop.

It was hard to say how long this went on. To James, it felt like no time at all, but the shadows had lengthened somewhat since they had begun playing. He wasn't sure what the final score was, though it probably wouldn't have mattered anyway; Torpin was a lousy Keeper and let through almost every shot, while McLaggen blocked more than half.

Beyond that, James didn't know where anyone stood. He hadn't had time to pay attention to individual Beaters, and he dared not think too hard about the Chasers' performance. Red and Margret worked marvelously together; Mitchell had done a good job as well, when he managed to avoid bludgers. Jackson was obviously skilled, but he didn't understand teamwork (or else he just didn't trust James and Ellerty). And James thought he and Ellerty made a pretty good team. They'd managed to stop quite a few attacks from the other team, and had even pulled a few fast ones on McLaggen.

But at last, April sounded her whistle and waved them all down. James heart pounded harder as he landed than it had during the scrimmage, and he bounced on the balls of his feet as everyone gathered around to hear April's verdict.

"Okay, good job, everyone," she said, making a note on a piece of parchment. She nodded once, then cleared her throat. "You were all brilliant, which of course made my job harder than I expected, but I've reached a decision. So, our Keeper is – McLaggen."

There was a murmur of approval; everyone had expected that one. Torpin gave a shrug and shook McLaggen's hand before trudging off the field.

"Beaters," April went on. "Harvey and Kendrick—" James shot Sirius a sympathetic look as the other boy's shoulders slumped— "And…" Sirius perked up. After an infuriating pause, April said: "Black on reserve."

Sirius broke into a wide grin. "Really?"

With a laugh, April nodded. "I'm impressed, Black. That wasn't half bad. I mean, look," she added apologetically. "I'll be frank, you're a little rough around the edges. You'll need to put in a lot of work at practice to make the team for real next year, but you've got potential."

"I'll work hard," Sirius promised. "I'll put in extra time!"

"Woah, there," Kendrick said in alarm. "Slow down! You're making us look bad!"

April shook her head. "_Anyway_," she said pointedly. "Let's finish announcing the team, shall we? We've still got six people waiting to hear their fate." April picked up the parchment she had been writing on. "Alright, so our Chasers are… Salano."

Harvey clapped Margret on the shoulder with a grin. "As if there was any question!"

Margret rolled her eyes, but a faint blush crept up her neck as she shoved off Harvey's arm.

Giving them a patient smile, April turned back to her list. "Red—" The brunette who had been on Margret's team squealed happily— "and Potter."

"YES!" James and Sirius roared together.

April ignored them. "Ellerty, you're our reserve. Practices start next week; I'll send out a schedule. That's all."

* * *

**A/N: Lily doesn't like the new professor or his unrealistic expectations. She doesn't understand why Headmaster Dumbledore would hire him. But by Merlin, she's going to master those spells if it's the last thing she does! Chapter 3 of _Lily's Story_ - "The New Professor" - is up!  
**


	7. The Slug Club

**Chapter 7: The Slug Club**

As promised, April Rohrs delivered a schedule for Quidditch practices to all team members at breakfast on Monday. She had reserved the Quidditch pitch for two hours three nights a week, and warned that practices would become more frequent as the first match approached. Sirius and Maddison Ellerty, as reserves, were required to attend every practice, in case they needed to fill in, but Sirius didn't mind the loss of his free time at all.

Neither, it seemed, did Remus.

"Six whole hours a week without distractions," he said happily upon learning of his friends' new commitment. "Maybe I can stay on top of my homework after all."

And they certainly were getting plenty of homework. Professor McGonagall had introduced them to more complex transfiguration spells, targeting larger objects than the previous year. The first two weeks were spent learning to change a stepladder into a chair. Although James usually found her classes quite entertaining, it was becoming hard work, and it didn't help in the least that he didn't see why anyone would need to make a chair out of a stepladder to begin with.

In Herbology, they continued with the Burrowing Scotchpods, which meant they spent the greater part of each lesson running around after escaped seedlings that were trying to take up residence underneath the greenhouse.

Professor Flitwick's class was as entertaining as always. He had put together a syllabus of charms that James and Sirius knew would be quite useful in future pranks. The only problem was the slow pace, and the way Sirius, who had a natural talent for charms, took to practicing on James in the middle of class.

Potions was still dreary, but a little less so with Slughorn's newfound fondness for James and Sirius. He never reprimanded them for subpar potions – "It's not everyone's cup of tea, m'boys. Your real talent lies elsewhere, nothing wrong with that!" – or made them stay after, and his rare essays were easy enough to write (with Peter's help, of course).

Astronomy and History of Magic often fell by the wayside, but as Professors Ruche and Binns rarely set homework, this wasn't much of a problem. Professor Ruche was content to make them diagram the sky once a week, and Binns was too oblivious to care about his students or their learning. As a matter of fact, James' largely-invented essay on the history of magical creature classification returned a perfectly respectable eighty percent, much to Remus' consternation.

Most of their workload came from Lynx and his mad obsession with "makin' sure you lot of nitwits survive!" He continued to teach them spells at an alarming rate. They finished Shield Charms on Tuesday and Lynx was, to say the least, unimpressed by their performance. Remus and Lily Evans must have done nothing else all weekend but practice, for although neither managed to produce a full, spherical shield, both blocked a jinx at the start of class, earning Lynx's gruff dismissal. Irritated by the smug smile Lily shot him on her way out the door, James had decided to actually make an honest effort, and he and Sirius just managed to appease Lynx before the end of the hour. Everyone else, having failed to block a jinx, was required to attend at least one evening training session.

On Friday, despite the handful of students still working on the Shield Charm, Lynx introduced them to two new spells that he expected them to master within the hour. Fortunately, one of the new spells was _Tarantallegra_, which James and Sirius had already had great fun using against Slytherins. The other was the Jelly Legs Jinx, a spell that was at least appropriate to their skill level. Nevertheless, they all left class that day with aching legs and bruised rumps, grumbling amongst themselves about stupid ex-Aurors-turned-non-professors.

Because of this, James and Sirius arrived to Quidditch practices sore and tired, and two hours later they left positively dead on their feet. But they were having too much fun to care. In fact, the only problem James and Sirius had with April's practice schedule was that she hadn't booked them for Friday nights, which meant they couldn't get out of Slughorn's little get-together on the twenty-second. And Slughorn wouldn't let them forget about it, either. At least once a week, he held James and Sirius, along with Lily and Snape, after class to ask them how their classes were going and whether they were still able to come to his party.

All too soon, the dreaded day arrived.

James and Sirius were sitting in the dormitory at quarter to eight when Remus appeared with his schoolbag slung over his shoulder.

"What are you still doing here?" he asked.

"Er…" James and Sirius exchanged a glance.

Remus snorted. "Ah. Hiding."

"We're not hiding!" Sirius protested, but he flushed as Remus arched an eyebrow. "We're just trying to figure out a reason not to go to Slughorn's stupid party."

"Just give it a chance," Remus said. He crossed to his trunk and rummaged around, adding a few schoolbooks to his bag. "You never know – you might enjoy yourselves."

James found that exceedingly unlikely, but he groaned and stood up.

Sitting up, Sirius scowled. "You're actually going?"

"You know Slughorn'll never let us alone if we don't."

From Sirius' expression, he agreed and decided that a night of unpleasant company was preferable to a hovering, offended Slughorn for however long he held a grudge. They trudged from the dormitory and across the common room, but stopped short of the portrait hole, debating whether they could convince Slughorn they were sick.

Remus found them there five minutes later and laughed.

"Do I have to walk you two down to the dungeons?"

"That's alright," Sirius said. "We wouldn't want to distract you from… whatever it is you're doing."

But Remus merely pushed open the door and gestured for them to go ahead. "I'm meeting Peter in the library. I'll walk with you that far, at least."

Groaning, James and Sirius climbed out onto the seventh floor landing and set off down the Grand Staircase as though they were marching to their own executions. Remus fell into step beside them, smiling amusedly at their discomfort. When they reached the third floor, Remus slowed and watched until they moved on.

They stopped once more in the Entrance Hall, staring at the stairs that led down to the dungeons.

"No turning back once you go down."

James swung around to see a petite Ravenclaw with a thin nose and knobbly knees standing on the first step. "I know you," James said. "You came to the pick-up game at the start of term."

The girl tucked a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear and stuck out her hand with a smile. "Marlene McKinnon."

"James Potter. And this is Sirius Black."

"You're going to the Slug Club?"

"The what?" James asked.

"The Slug Club," Marlene repeated, blue eyes twinkling. "That's what everyone calls it – Professor Slughorn's group of favorite students, I mean. He only invites the very best second years to join, you know. The ones with the talent to make something of themselves, or enough connections that talent doesn't matter."

Sirius snorted. "Well I haven't got any connections. None that I plan to ever use, at any rate."

With a laugh, Marlene strode past the two boys and started down the stairs. "I know you don't. You should have heard him last year – my very first Slug Club event, and all he can talk about is how much he was counting on you two to prove yourselves as good as your names. But then Sirius Black had to go and get himself Sorted into Gryffindor – and that _awful_ Howler – and the two of you go on to become troublemakers. He was sure you would never amount to anything after a start like that."

At the boys' twin harrumphs, Marlene grinned.

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist," she said. "After what you did at the end of last term? You're like to be the stars of the evening!"

"But it wasn't just us," James pointed out. "Peter and Remus were there, too! How come they didn't get an invitation?"

Marlene merely shrugged. "Slughorn's very picky about who he lets in – and who he lets stay," she added in a warning tone. "He's not afraid to boot anyone who doesn't live up to his expectations."

"Good to know," Sirius said, elbowing James, who snickered.

With a snort, Marlene turned left at the bottom of the stairs. "You might want to wait a bit before you get yourselves kicked out. It's really not as bad as you think. I mean, sure, the company can get a bit dull, and Slughorn does tend to ramble, and I hear he wants you to come to more 'events' as you get older…"

James made a face. "Yeah, this Slug Club sounds like a _real_ hoot."

"Oh, shove off," Marlene said. "Maybe it _is_ boring!"

"Then why do you keep going?" Sirius asked.

Marlene shrugged. "The food's good."

At this, Sirius laughed. "Well, what more do I need to hear?"

"So we trade a perfectly good Friday night for some food we could just get from the kitchens?" James asked dubiously.

"You know where the kitchens are?"

"Er…"

Marlene waved her hand as they rounded another corner. A door ahead spilled orange light into the corridor, and voices could be heard within. "Never mind. Just give it a try. Slughorn's sure to make it worth your while."

James doubted very much that anything could make this evening worth his while, but they were now at the door to Slughorn's office, and Marlene gestured them through.

The office was larger than it appeared from the outside – nearly as large as the Gryffindor common room, which had been known to fit over a hundred students on occasion, though James saw only twenty gathered in Slughorn's office. A table covered in a white silk cloth and bearing a spread of fancy cheeses, meats, breads, and pastries stood along the back wall, while a ring of couches, chairs, and tea tables took up the center of the room.

Slughorn himself wove through the gathered students, chatting amicably and shaking hands with everyone who held still long enough. When he saw the three newcomers still standing in the door, he practically jumped for joy and hurried over.

"James! Sirius!" He turned to each of them in turn and took their hand in both of his thick, hairy ones. "So glad you could make it! I see you've already met Marlene – good to see you, Marlene. I trust you are well?"

"Quite," Marlene said, lips quirking into an amused smile. "Sorry I'm late."

Slughorn bowed low over her hand, and James though he was going to kiss it, but he stopped a few inches short. "One of these days, my dear, you will arrive on time," he said wearily. "But until that day arrives, I suppose I shall simply have to pretend not to notice your tardiness."

Straightening, Slughorn turned to survey the room. "It would appear we have all arrived," he said in a carrying voice, and the low buzz of conversation died at once. "Help yourselves to some refreshments, and then we'll begin."

James, Sirius, and Marlene broke toward the food table at once, piling their plates high (Marlene warned them it would be several hours before they would have a chance to get seconds.)

Slowly the gathered students found their seats. James, Sirius, and Marlene claimed a squishy blue couch situated a bit outside the circle, where they waited for Slughorn to get started. Once everyone sat down, Slughorn introduced them one-by-one, sharing not only names and years, but a kind of miniature biography. The sheer variety of people there surprised James.

There was Leo Smith, the Ravenclaw Keeper, who hadn't given up a single goal the year before, and April Rohrs, who had caught the snitch for Gryffindor every single game since joining the team as a third year. They got along curiously well, despite the obvious rivalry – they were both Quidditch Captains and had been up against each other in last year's final. Leo had blocked Gryffindor at every turn so that Ravenclaw had led one hundred eighty to zero by the time April caught the snitch nearly four hours into the game.

Eliot Donovan, the Gryffindor prefect, sat on the couch across from April and Leo. Eliot's father apparently worked as head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Eliot himself had earned ten OWLs, the lowest of which was an Exceeds Expectations in Astronomy.

Lucius Malfoy also had valuable family connections (though Slughorn didn't specify what those might be), and Slughorn complemented Malfoy for his own ability to form alliances and exploit every advantage at his disposal.

It turned out that Marlene McKinnon had an "uncanny knack for defensive magic." Both her parents, along with an aunt, were accomplished Aurors in line for important promotions.

James swore five hours passed before Slughorn finally introduced the last of his returning guests, a seventh year Slytherin named Timothy Nott. James caught sight of Eliot's watch and saw that it was only half-past nine. He stabbed irritably at a piece of apple crisp.

"And now for our newest members," Slughorn said. "Second years, please stand up."

James and Sirius exchanged exasperated glances, but set aside their deserts and stood, hands shoved into their pockets. Aside from the two of them, Lily and Snape also stood, along with Kingsley Shacklebolt, a Ravenclaw and likely the only person at Hogwarts with enough patience to keep his big-headed, halfwit housemate Gilderoy Lockhart in line – and to keep himself from throttling the twat. Across the way stood a dusty-haired boy James vaguely recognized from Herbology.

"Quite a catch this time around," Slughorn said. "I expect you and your fellows will be remembered for years to come. It's not often I find more than two or three in a year who make a good fit for this little society, but here we've got six."

He nodded sagely, as though the number of second years in the room was a great accomplishment.

"First we have Mr. Scott Adrian from Hufflepuff."

The boy jumped and flushed crimson as the combined attention of a score of students turned his way.

Slughorn beamed. "Scott here has quite the eye for details, you know. First student in a decade with a perfect Astronomy record— never a star out of place on his charts."

At this, several people scowled. James imagined they were remembering their own mistakes on their star charts, brooding over how it might have been them on whom Slughorn heaped such absolutely _overwhelming_ praise.

But Slughorn failed to notice the bitter looks. "Pomona tells me you don't much like the spotlight, but no worries! I'm sure with the right introductions, you'll find yourself in a splendid position at the Ministry. You know what they say – the true government is the one you never see!"

There was a round of polite applause, and Scott sank red-faced into his seat as Slughorn turned to the next student—

"Kingsley Shacklebolt. Extraordinary among Ravenclaws." Slughorn winked at the Ravenclaw girl seated beside him, whose name James had already forgotten. "Sharp as a tack, of course, but that's not all. He's a natural-born leader, he is. Prefect in three years' time – you mark my words – and probably Head Boy after that. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if he were Minister for Magic some day!"

Kingsley bowed. "Thank you, sir."

"Not at all, son, not at all… Severus Snape."

Snape, who had been slouching and staring distractedly at the floor, jerked upright at the sound of his name. He quickly focused on Slughorn, who seemed to have puffed out his chest the tiniest bit.

"One of my own – so it's no surprise he's got the old Slytherin ambition." (Here, James snorted; nearly half the room was Slytherin, which told James that even here, Slughorn favored his own house.) "You want to go places, don't you, son?"

With a slow nod, Snape mumbled an affirmative.

"Of course you do! And by Merlin, I think you will. You're a regular Potions protégé, Severus. I've never seen a first year take to the subject like you have. Hogwarts, the Ministry, private interests – believe you me; anyone would pay through the nose to have a talent like yours."

James snickered at the pink tinge that crept up from the collar of Snape' robes. "Look at widdle Sevie-poo," he muttered to Sirius. "I think he's embarrassed."

"That's just sad," Sirius whispered back. "He's so happy to be called a teacher's pet!"

"We'll just have to call him that from now on, won't we?" James asked, and Sirius nodded.

"Next we have Miss Lily Evans of Gryffindor," Slughorn said, giving her a warm smile. "Top of her year, and exceptionally talented. And I must say, you haven't just got intellectual knowledge, Lily, but a real knack for magic. I have absolutely no doubts that you will continue to impress us all.

"And last but certainly not least…" Slughorn turned to James and Sirius with a kind of manic glint in his eye, and James remembered what Marlene had said. _You're like to be the stars of the evening_. Well, for Slughorn certainly. But judging by the disdain evident on many of the students' faces, they didn't think quite so highly of the pranksters. Lily and Snape, who sat side-by-side on a green striped couch, wore twin scowls, as though the very idea of Slughorn deigning to invite James and Sirius was a crime worthy of a Dementor's Kiss.

Undeterred (or perhaps just oblivious), Slughorn pressed on. "Gryffindor's own James Potter and Sirius Black – although I'm sure they hardly need introduction. They proved their skill last year by defeating the villain responsible for all those horrible attacks. And they're both quite bright, although you wouldn't know it from their grades."

"My grades are perfectly decent, thank you!" James said.

There was a titter of laughter from a pair of Ravenclaws, but most of the room seemed too stunned that James had dared to interrupt Slughorn to make any noise.

Sirius, on the other hand, took it in stride. "And it isn't as though we took on del Bene all by ourselves! How come Remus and Peter didn't get an invitation?"

With a derisive sneer, Snape muttered, "Pettigrew? As though that dunderhead deserves to be here."

James grabbed Sirius by the elbow to keep him from leaping across the circle at Snape. "If by dunderhead you mean his best subject is Potions, Mr. Protégé." James smirked as Snape flushed. "And if grades are all that matter, then Remus should _definitely_ be here. Evans may be top of the year, but Remus is right behind her. How come we're invited but he's not?"

For a long moment, silence reigned as James and Sirius waited for Slughorn's explanation. All around the circle, eyes darted from the pair of Gryffindors to the professor, seemingly beyond themselves with the novelty of a student who dared to speak back.

At last, Slughorn gathered himself. "I do not deny that Mr. Lupin is a bright boy, and that Mr. Pettigrew is… enthusiastic. But the simple fact of the matter is that neither of them has that certain spark that makes you all stand out from the crowd. They may be successful in their own right, boys, but they will never be great."

James' blood sang in his ears, and an argument was on the tip of his tongue, but Slughorn forcefully steered the conversation into the realm of the Ministry and life beyond Hogwarts. Marlene gave the back of James' and Sirius' robes a firm tug, and they dropped stiffly back onto the couch on either side of her.

"So much for not getting the boot," she muttered.

Slughorn did not immediately kick them out of the Slug Club, but James thought he would rather he _had_. At least that would have saved them another two long, dull hours listening to the drone of polite conversation. When at last they bid Marlene goodnight and trudged back to Gryffindor Tower, they wanted nothing more than to collapse on their beds and never move again.

They found Peter sitting up in the common room, quill scratching at a scroll of parchment.

"What're you still doing up?" James grumbled as they stumbled toward the stairs.

Peter added a final few scratches to the parchment before rolling it up and getting to his feet. "Finishing the Charms essay. Remus was helping me, but he got a headache and went to bed early."

"Lucky bastard," Sirius muttered.

James had to agree, but couldn't work up the energy to say so. Instead, the three boys climbed the stairs to their dormitory, where the curtains were drawn around the other three beds. James kicked off his shoes, fumbled with his spectacles and curtains, face-planted on his bed, and was asleep in seconds.

* * *

**A/N: Remus has never had friends like James, Sirius, and Peter, and with the full moon approaching, he's finding it more difficult than he anticipated to lie to them. _Moony's Story_, chapter seven: "September 1972: Friendship and Headaches."**

**When James and Sirius are invited to Professor Slughorn's party, Peter can't help but feel jealous, so he seeks advice from the one person who might understand. Check out _Wormtail_'s Story, chapter four - "Slug Club Shun."  
**


	8. OneEyed Witch

**Chapter 8: One-Eyed Witch**

As the weather turned chilly and the professors continued to pile mounds of homework on the students, a determined few still managed to find time for diversions. Most days, a handful of students could be found sneaking off for a few goes at the Whomping Willow before supper, or gathering in secluded corners to trade tips and taunts.

The first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, was fast approaching, and true to form, April Rohrs had set a revised schedule – three hours, five nights a week. They started straight away after supper and kept on until the sun began to set, by which time everyone wanted nothing more than to shower and relax in the warmth of Gryffindor Tower. Everyone, that was, except James and Sirius, who seemed more energetic coming out of practice than they had been going in.

And so, one blustery Friday evening found the pair standing in the gathering darkness, eyeing the ominous sway of the Whomping Willow's branches. James' broom lay safely out of harm's way, and Sirius glared at it halfheartedly. April had told him at practice that he really ought to get himself a proper broom. _"You're getting better,_" she'd said. _"A lot better. But you can only do so much on a school broom. They've been crashed and manhandled so much it's a wonder they even stay up in the air."_

"You think your parents'd get you a broom?" James asked, struggling to his feet after taking a stiff blow from behind as he scrambled away from the Willow.

Sirius snorted. "That's less likely than Evans coming out here and snogging me."

"You could at least ask them."

With a noncommittal grunt, Sirius turned his attention to a shallow cut on his elbow, which he squeezed until blood welled out. "It's your turn," he said moodily.

James fingered the tender spot on the back of his head and winced. "'S _your_ turn, mate. I just went."

"What's the matter? Lost your nerve, Potter?"

"Stuff it, Black!" James laughed. "It's just that I've already nearly got there, and I wanted to give you every chance for a good showing. Wouldn't want to humiliate you."

"Sure it's not just wimping out?"

"Nah, it's chivalry, mate! We're Gryffindors, after all, aren't we?"

Sirius smirked. "Well that's a very _chivalrous_ bump you've got on your head. Now go get another one." He grabbed James by the shoulders and started to shove him toward the Willow.

"'lo there," came a new voice. James and Sirius broke apart immediately and turned to see the groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, towering over them. James hadn't been in such close quarters with the scruffy man since his first day at Hogwarts, when he and the other first years followed Hagrid down to the lake for the traditional boat-crossing. As such, James had forgotten just how massive he was – easily twice as tall as the two second years, and several times as wide. "Arright?"

"Hi, Hagrid," James said nervously, edging away from the Willow. Sirius did the same. "Need something?"

"Jus' on my way ter see Professor Dumbledore 'bout… er…" He stopped suddenly, looking embarrassed.

Sirius seized on this at once, his eyebrows shooting up into his fringe. "About what?"

"Oh," said Hagrid. "Er… So, you two, what're yeh doin' out here at this hour, anyway?"

"On our way back from Quidditch practice," James said.

Hagrid frowned. "Thought that ended a half hour ago."

"Sure," Sirius said. "We just didn't want to go back inside. There's only homework waiting for us in the common room."

"But never mind _that_," James said. "What've you got to speak to Dumbledore about?"

Looking incredibly uncomfortable, Hagrid tugged on the collar of his moleskin overcoat. "Oh, this an' that. Small problem wi' the pumpkins for the Halloween feast."

"Uh-huh." James crossed his arms and gave his best McGonagall impersonation. "And we're out here playing tag with the Whomping Willow," he said sarcastically. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sirius bite back a laugh. But James' words had their intended effect: Hagrid rolled his eyes and turned toward the castle.

"Righ', well, next time you want ter get outta homework, you oughtta stop by my house for a spot o' tea." Hagrid gestured to the cabin just visible near the forest. "Least yeh'd be outta the chill then."

James grinned. "Alright, sure!"

"We've got practice again on Monday," Sirius added. "We could stop by then."

Hagrid merely smiled and started off toward the front doors. James snatched up his broom and hurried after the groundskeeper, Sirius at his side, muttering, "Playing tag with the Willow. That's rich."

-.-.-

The school-wide "game of tag," as it was now being called in the presence of the uninitiated, continued in full-force into the weekend, but James and Sirius didn't participate. Saturday morning, for once, Remus took a break from homework to roam the castle with James, Sirius, and Peter, so they couldn't slip away. James remembered all too well how Remus had run off in search of a professor upon seeing a group of students playing around the Willow the previous spring; only an attack on their classmates had kept him from putting an end to the whole thing.

James wasn't about to risk that again. Not with a thirty galleon pot.

Fortunately, Remus was in a rather reckless mood, by his standards, which meant he didn't protest when they levitated water-filled buckets up over random doorways to soak the next person unfortunate to walk through. He even pretended not to notice when they passed Severus Snape in the corridor and James and Sirius paused to hex him.

James rather thought he could get used to this new Remus, but sadly it wasn't to last. As they left the Great Hall after supper that evening, Professor McGonagall cornered them in the Entrance Hall. At first, James feared she might have fallen victim to their water buckets, but she didn't look angry (or wet, for that matter). She regarded them all stoically, then rested her hand on Remus' shoulder. James' pulse quickened.

"Mr. Lupin."

Remus stiffened and stared at McGonagall blankly.

"Mr. Lupin," McGonagall said again. "Come with me, please."

James absently seized Remus around the arm, hardly noticing when the boy gave a violent start. "Why?" James asked, though he had the ominous feeling he already knew why. "What's happened?"

Eyes never wavering from Remus' face, McGonagall spoke slowly and carefully. "I'm afraid Mr. Lupin's mother has had a relapse."

"No!" Peter gasped.

James' hands tightened around Remus' arm, and Remus winced.

"She'll be alright," Sirius said. "She'll be alright. You'll see…"

Without a word, Remus disentangled himself from his friends, squeezed his eyes shut momentarily, and followed McGonagall glumly up the stairs. As they went, McGonagall informed Remus that he would be able to Floo to St. Mungo's from her office. James, Sirius, and Peter watched them go, too shocked and worried to say or do anything. Eventually, they gathered themselves and trekked up to their dormitory for several hours of listless conversation.

-.-.-

Remus returned Monday afternoon, but the moment James and Sirius presented him with the notes they'd taken in Herbology and Potions, he retreated to the dormitory to study. James, Sirius, and Peter, along with their other dormmates Frank Longbottom and Alexander Thorne, left him to it until dinner, when they had to literally drag him away from his school books.

"I'm not hungry," he grumbled as Sirius steered him toward the portrait hole.

James crossed his arms, grinning playfully. "You have to eat, Remus. You keep studying like this, you're gonna waste away to nothing."

"And you're already scrawnier than James," Sirius added.

"Oi!"

Remus scowled. "Then bring me up something and I'll eat it while I work."

"Not a chance." James pushed on the back of the Fat Lady's frame and gestured them through. "And you know what? You're taking a break at nine, too."

"What? Why?"

"Hagrid's invited us over for tea." James smiled at Peter. "Make sure he's at the Quidditch pitch by the time practice is over, alright Pete?"

With a wary glance at the sour look on Remus' face, Peter nodded. "I'll try."

Sirius clapped Remus on the shoulder hard enough to make Remus wince. "Brilliant! It's a date."

-.-.-

It seemed Remus hadn't been lying when he said he wasn't hungry, or else he played with his food purely out of spite. He spent ten minutes pushing mashed potatoes and steak around his plate as he stared longingly at the doors, and when James reminded him that he had to actually put the food in his mouth, Remus muttered that the meat was overcooked and the potatoes were too buttery.

"Tastes fine to me," Sirius said, shoveling another forkful into his mouth and grinning at Remus, who glared back until Sirius shoved a roll in Remus' mouth and dumped a spoonful of broccoli onto his plate.

Remus grudgingly chewed the bread and swallowed. "I hate broccoli."

"How about some chocolate?" James asked, loading a piece of chocolate cake onto Remus' plate on top of everything else.

Crinkling his nose, Remus shoved his plate away. "I told you. I'm not hungry." He looked faintly green, and James wondered whether he might have caught something at St. Mungo's.

"You feeling alright?"

"Fine."

For the rest of dinner, Remus refused to say or eat anything more, but James nicked a loaf of bread and two apples, which he shoved into Peter's arms with instructions to make sure Remus ate something eventually. Then James and Sirius headed down to practice.

"Two weeks," April kept reminding them. "We've got less than two weeks until the big match." She had apparently spent her afternoon practicing on her own so she could hover over the rest of them in the evening, calling out snappish criticisms that made Kendrick Hattan threaten to take his Beater's bat to her. She only scowled and said that if he wanted Slytherin to win, then he could go ahead and do whatever he pleased. Kendrick quickly shut up and returned to his drills.

Practice ended with a warning that April would be calling extra practices the coming weekend, as they couldn't have one on Halloween.

To no one's surprise, Peter and Remus had not arrived by the time the team returned to the ground. But neither did James and Sirius have to make the long trek up to Gryffindor Tower to fetch them; they found Remus skulking on the second floor, Peter dragging piteously on his arm. James and Sirius opted for a more active approach – James grabbed him under the arms, Sirius took his feet, and they carried their protesting friend down the stairs and into the night.

Halfway to Hagrid's, Remus finally admitted defeat, which was fortunate, for James' arms were already tired from Quidditch practice, and carrying around a wriggling boy (even one as scrawny as Remus) was wearing him out even more.

Nevertheless, when Hagrid opened his door a few minutes later, it was to find an unusually cross Remus flanked by his three cheerful friends.

"Somethin' happen ter ya, Remus?" Hagrid asked in amusement as he beckoned them inside. James found himself in a small, crowded room with a bed in one corner, a messy kitchen in the other, and a large cherry wood table and chairs in the center. A fire blazed merrily in the hearth, and the smell of wood smoke hung over everything like a warm, drowsing blanket.

Remus' amber eyes slid toward his friends, who nudged him toward a chair. "'m just tired." He plopped down and rested his head on the table. "Long night."

James bit his lip, exchanging a glance with Sirius. They'd never asked about Remus' mother or how his weekend had gone, and from the circles under his eyes, he looked as though he hadn't slept in days. Maybe they shouldn't have forced Remus to come down here, after all. But Hagrid merely grunted in what sounded like sympathy and set a tea kettle on the stove. Turning around, he ruffled Remus' hair, at which the boy smiled and sat up straighter in his chair.

"How've you been, Hagrid?"

"Arright. Lots ter do with Halloween comin' up." Hagrid crossed to a shelf at the back of the cottage to retrieve a chipped jar. "An' you two," he said, clapping James on the shoulder so hard he collapsed painfully into the chair beside Remus, who ducked his head to hide a smile. "How's Quidditch practice?"

Sirius swallowed a laugh and joined his friends at the table, choking out a quick, "Fine."

James rolled his eyes, but Hagrid had turned his attention back to Remus.

"Ol' Lynx still layin' it on thick?" he asked, and grinned at the scowl that crossed all four boys' faces. "Thought so. Well, leas' yeh aren't gettin' graded."

"I guess." Remus sighed, leaning his cheek on a fist. "Still's frustrating, though."

Eyeing Remus and Hagrid suspiciously, Sirius stuck out his hand to interrupt the conversation. "Hold on. Do you two _know_ each other?"

"Yeah," Remus said with a shrug. "I've been coming to see him just about every week since we started last year. You know, just to talk and have tea…"

"An' complain." Hagrid laughed as Remus ducked his head. "Nothin' wrong with tha'. Everyone needs ta let it all out every now an' then. Though I'd noticed yeh weren't complainin' 'bout them two as much lately." He jerked his thumb toward James and Sirius, who pretended to be offended as Remus flushed crimson.

Just then, the kettle whistled, and Hagrid turned away. James tried to catch Remus' eye, but the boy swiveled in his seat so that his back was to his friends.

"None for me, Hagrid, thanks," he said, but Hagrid ignored him and poured five cups of tea – or rather, four cups and a cereal bowl, which probably seemed like a teacup to Hagrid. Remus sighed and wrapped his hands around the cup placed before him. "Really, Hagrid. I haven't been feeling well today."

"I knew it!" James cried in mock horror, covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve. "You _are_ sick!"

Remus managed a weak smile before turning a pleading look to Hagrid, who merely shook his head with a gesture toward Remus' teacup. Sighing, Remus raised the cup to his lips and took the smallest possible sip. He paused, drawing back to stare at the deep brown liquid.

"Chocolate?" he asked, taking another, larger, sip. "This is chocolate tea?"

With a twinkle in his eyes, Hagrid drained half of his tea in a single gulp. "Mm-hmm. New recipe; Madam Pomfrey jus' gave it ter me. Chocolate has all sorts o' uses, yeh know. 'Specially after long, miserable nights." He winked, and Remus gave a small, but genuine, smile.

"It's good." He breathed in the steam happily before taking another sip. James, Sirius, and Peter hastened to follow. It was, James found, a sweet tea, with just a hint of chocolate, but it was surprisingly good. Not at all like cocoa, as James had expected; less creamy and somewhat milder.

"Never had chocolate tea before," James said, licking his lips. His three friends mumbled the same, and then silence swelled as they all drank contentedly.

Hagrid refilled their teacups as the conversation turned to classes, Quidditch, and the boys themselves. Remus grew increasingly cheerful as the evening wore on, working his way through four cups of chocolate tea before Hagrid remembered the time and sent them on their way. As soon as the door latched behind them, Remus announced that he was hungry.

"You should've said something," Peter said. "Hagrid would've made you something, right?"

Remus snorted.

"What?" Sirius asked, frowning.

Hiding a smile in his hand, Remus shook his head. "Don't ever eat anything Hagrid makes you. Anything more difficult than tea comes out like a hunk of rock."

"No kidding?" James laughed.

They walked a while in silence. Remus' stomach gave a growl that made them all laugh.

"Did you ever eat that food we sent with Peter?" James asked.

"Um…"

Sirius gave Remus a playful shove toward the castle. "And _now_ you're hungry?"

With a helpless shrug, Remus ducked his head, but in the light spilling through the many windows up ahead, James could tell the boy was blushing.

Taking pity on his friend, James looped an arm around Remus' shoulders. "You know," said James. "I could use a snack myself. To the kitchens?"

"To the kitchens!" Sirius echoed.

"You know where the kitchens are?" Remus asked in surprise.

James rolled his eyes. "Where d'you think we keep getting cauldronfuls of food in the middle of the night?"

"Wait till you see it, Remus," Peter said, his eyes sparkling excitedly. "It's _huge!_ And there are house elves _everywhere_!"

Remus looked halfway between intrigued by the thought and wary. No doubt he considered the kitchens out of bounds, and despite his friendship with James and Sirius, who made a habit of sneaking about after hours at least once a week, Remus had yet to break curfew with them, although they had caught him in the Defense classroom at midnight once the previous year.

Assuring Remus that they were well within their rights to visit the kitchens (and indeed, to the best of James' knowledge, no prefect or professor had ever _expressly_ forbidden them to do so), they passed through the Entrance Hall and made their way down to the dungeons under the Great Hall. A painting of a bowl of fruit marked the secret door, which could be opened by tickling the pear on the left. Remus was taken aback by this bizarre trick, and even more so by the bustle of the kitchens, where the hundred or so house elves were hard at work washing dishes and beginning preparations for tomorrow's breakfast.

As Remus did not appear to be thinking much about food at the moment, choosing instead to wander around the massive room observing the house elves' labor, James, Sirius, and Peter took it upon themselves to request a wide enough variety that Remus was sure to find something appetizing.

They had to lead Remus out of the kitchens by the wrist, and he spent the ten-minute walk to Gryffindor Tower wondering aloud about what kinds of magic the house elves used to prepare the food. Once they reached the second year dormitory, however, Remus was too busy devouring breads and cheese and fruit and even a chocolate pastry to say anything more. James, Sirius, and Peter indulged themselves in the less healthy morsels, beckoning to the startled Frank Longbottom and Alexander Thorne to join them.

-.-.-

By morning, Remus was back to his usual self, joining his friends for a sizeable breakfast of bacon and eggs. They talked about the upcoming Quidditch match, which Remus swore he would attend (and after some further prompting from James, he agreed to leave any and all books behind). James and Sirius had just begun to debate how badly they would thrash Slytherin when a nearby voice distracted them.

"Don't be silly, Bertha. Something like that would've been in the _Prophet_!"

"Not if they're trying to keep it quiet."

James turned toward the bickering girls – pudgy, squashed-nosed Bertha Jorkins and her two friends. Bertha twirled the ends of her frizzy brown hair around her fingers as the pretty, dark-skinned girl with spectacles who had spoken first sighed heavily and leaned her cheek on her hand.

"What on earth would they want to hush up a bunch of disappearances for?"

"And if you say the Ministry's behind it," cut in the third girl, "I swear I'll break your jaw." Tie askew, blouse rumpled, and sleeves rolled up above her elbows, she stabbed viciously at a sausage on her plate. James and Sirius exchanged a glance and snickered.

The girl with the spectacles sighed. "Oh, _honestly_, Petra."

"Don't make that face," Petra grumbled. "You know you'd thank me."

Bertha snapped her fingers under her friends' noses. "Petra. Monica. Focus. A dozen people in the last month alone – vanished, just like that!" She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper as she continued: "And that's not even the worst of it."

"Oh, Merlin," Petra sighed. "Here we go."

Monica shook her head. "You know, you're right. A broken jaw might do her some good."

"Or at least shut her up for half a minute."

"The worst part—" Bertha continued, still in a whisper, apparently oblivious to her friends' words— "The worst part is that it's more than just disappearances." She gave a dramatic pause and glanced around. When she caught sight of James and his friends watching her, she puffed up and finished in carrying tones. "Some of those people were _killed_."

Petra snorted into her pumpkin juice. "Only some? I suppose the killer befriended the rest?"

Shooting Petra a warning glance, Monica spread her hands in a placating gesture. "Look, Bertha, be reasonable! If all these people had really disappeared, wouldn't the Ministry make some kind of announcement? Wouldn't their families have come forward, at least?"

"But they _have_ done, don't you see?" Bertha drummed her fingers on the table. "My father works at the Ministry, you know. I've heard all about it from him."

"Your father's an assistant at Flourish and Blotts," Petra said.

Bertha flushed. "Oh, alright, fine. It was my uncle's best mate who told me." She waved her hand in the air. "The _important_ thing is that people are dying, and sooner or later… Sooner or later, the killer's going to come to Hogwarts."

Leaning back in her seat, Bertha plastered a smug smile on her face. But if she was expecting an explosion, she was to be disappointed. Monica peered calmly at Bertha over the tops of her lenses, and with one last gulp of pumpkin juice, Petra rose from the table.

"Right," she said, shouldering her school bag. "Well, when he gets here, let me know." Then she turned her back on the flabbergasted Bertha Jorkins and left the Great Hall. Snickering, James and Sirius watched her go, her trainers squeaking on the stone floor, a run in the back of her stockings.

"You know," said Bertha after Petra had gone. "I don't think she believed me."

James had to shove a forkful of egg into his mouth to keep from laughing aloud. As soon as he managed to swallow, he dashed into the Entrance Hall, followed shortly by his friends.

"Y-you think people are really dying?" Peter stammered as they set off for their first class.

"Don't be stupid," Sirius said with a snort. "Bertha Jorkins is a pathetic little gossip. I'd be surprised if she ever got through a whole sentence without lying."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Remus said with a reassuring smile at Peter, who still looked nervous. "Don't worry about it."

-.-.-

Most of the second year Gryffindors, including James, approached the Defense classroom that afternoon with a certain level of resentful obligation. Lynx maintained his spot as most hated teacher/trainer at Hogwarts, drawing as much criticism from the students as did the caretaker, Argus Filch. James suspected most of them would gladly skive off once in a while if not for the knowledge that Lynx would hold them responsible for every charm and jinx he taught, whether they were present to learn it or not.

Only Remus and Lily Evans still managed to summon any kind of enthusiasm for the class, though they seemed more stubbornly determined to prove to Lynx that they were not halfwits than actually eager to learn.

"Who can tell me the difference between _Diffindo_ and _Dissendium_?" Lynx asked the instant students began to cross the threshold. As usual, the room was bare of furniture, aside from shelves lining the wall with jars of Auror bits on display. Lynx stood staring out the window, tapping his wand absently against his palm.

The students gathered along the opposite wall in silence. Lily opened her mouth once to answer, then seemed to think better of it and settled for exchanging a knowing look with Remus, who smiled back. James caught Lily's eye and waggled his eyebrows. With a scowl, Lily tossed her vivid red hair over her shoulder and returned her attention to Lynx. James continued to leer at her until—

"_Dissendium!_"

James turned forward just in time for a blast of hot air to hit him square in the face. With two small _pops_ and a melodic tinkling, James' vision went out of focus. He gave a wordless cry and ripped his spectacles off his face; the lenses had fallen out and now lay somewhere on the ground at his feet.

"What'd you do that for?" Sirius demanded, stooping down to retrieve the lenses.

Lynx crossed the room in a flash, pressing the tip of his wand against Sirius' forehead. If he squinted, James could just make out a twisted grin on the man's wrinkled face.

"Demonstration, Mr. Black. Thanks for volunteerin'. Today's lesson involves two oft-confused spells. Mix 'em up in battle and it might just be the last mistake you ever make." His wand hovered steadily between Sirius' eyes. "_Diff—_"

"_Protego!_" Remus shouted, his wand appearing suddenly in his hand. Audible gasps went up around the room as a shimmering shield exploded into being in front of Sirius, causing Lynx to stumble backward.

James squinted from a chalk-white Remus to Lynx; the man's expression was entirely unreadable, blurry as James' vision was. Lynx's wand had turned from Sirius to Remus, whose breath came in shallow gasps and whose wand trembled as he directed it back at Lynx. No one moved. No one spoke. Sirius remained where he was, still crouched to retrieve James' lenses.

Then, abruptly, Lynx began to laugh.

It was a strange sound, a bit like a coughing fit, raspy and dry, as though Lynx did not often have cause for such joviality. Then again, thought James, he probably didn't. He was always so full of gruesome pessimism that he probably thought humor was in poor taste.

Lynx lowered his wand, and Remus staggered as the tension drained out of him. Sirius rose swiftly and pressed two hard, smooth shapes into James' hand – his lenses.

"Ten points to Gryffindor!" Lynx announced, to general astonishment. "Good to see I've broken through some of your thick skulls."

Pale face suddenly flushed with color, Remus ducked his head. Seemingly desperate for some distraction, he seized the spectacles and lenses from James' hands, tapped them with his wand, and muttered, "_Reparo_." The lenses slid easily back into the frames, and James shoved them back on, grateful to have the room back in focus.

A faint smile still touched Lynx's face as he raised his wand to conjure a cloth dummy suspended by a rope tied under its arms. "_Diffindo!_"

Stuffing spilled from a long, jagged tear that appeared across the dummy's torso. Several students gasped at this. Sirius' face drained of color, so that he was as pale now as Remus had been a moment earlier.

"_Dissendium_," Lynx said, all brusque business once more, "don't count for nothin' in a duel, less you're lucky enough to go up against a wizard in spectacles." James's face burned with indignation, but Lynx didn't give him a chance to speak. "Don't ever get it mixed up with _Diffindo_."

Almost at once, Lynx split them into two groups. The first took turns ripping dummies to pieces with _Diffindo_, while the second used _Dissendium_ to prize apart padlocks and barricades and heavy iron chains. Remus and Lily, who wound up in opposite groups, took it upon themselves to explain in an undertone what, precisely, made the two spells different.

_Dissendium_, they said, simply separated objects, or distinct pieces of an object. It could be used to find secret doors, clear debris, or open objects that had rusted shut. In contrast, _Diffindo_ functioned like an invisible straight razor, delivering shallow cuts to anything soft, like cloth or flesh. When Sirius gave Remus a hearty clap on the back to thank him for the life-saving Shield Charm, Remus flushed and mumbled that _Diffindo_ couldn't cut deep enough cause any lasting harm. But Sirius paid him no mind, insisting on getting a big chocolate cake from the kitchens after class to celebrate his near-death experience and Remus' daring rescue.

Shortly after this declaration, Lynx cracked down once again, harshly correcting the students' form and pronunciation and pushing them all to the edge of their patience.

When at last class ended, James and his friends meandered into the corridor, still flinging spells at random targets.

"_Diffindo!_" Sirius cried, brandishing his wand toward a suit of armor standing across the way. A hollow _clang_ rang out as a dent appeared in the tarnished breastplate. "He's completely mental! I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking, hiring a tosser like him."

James took aim at the same suit of armor. "_Dissendium!_" The helmet arced through the air and landed with a clatter near a statue of a hippogriff. "But, hey, Remus managed to get ten whole points out of him."

"It's like some kind of miracle," Sirius grumbled, though he grinned once more at Remus.

"That was great, Remus," Peter said earnestly. "Really it was! The best Shield Charm I've ever seen!"

Turning a truly impressive shade of scarlet, Remus muttered that it was nothing. Then, deliberately avoiding the others' eyes and disregarding the rule against magic in the corridors, he pointed his wand at the statue of a humpbacked witch with only one eye. "_Dissendium._"

_THUNK!_

The four of them stopped walking to stare at the statue. Had they broken it, James wondered? It still looked to be in one piece…

Very slowly, they crossed the corridor to examine the damage. Sirius circled around behind the statue and gave an elated cry that drew the other three to where he stood, peering into a small, dark hole in the witch's hump that James knew had not been there before. Peter lit his wand and thrust it into the space.

"What d'you think it is?" he asked, his voice echoing in the space. "It sounds big…"

"Secret passage?" James asked excitedly, grinning at Sirius. The day they had met, James and Sirius had set out to discover all of Hogwarts' secrets before the end of their seventh year. The running list of secret passages, hidden rooms, and trap doors that James kept in a red-and-gold leather journal had grown steadily over the past year, but James knew there was very much more to discover.

Sirius looked every bit as enthralled as James. "Move over, Pete. I want a look!" Not waiting for a response, he dragged Peter away from the hole, ignoring the other boy's protest. Suddenly Peter gave a shout and a series of echoing _cracks _emanated from the hole in the statue.

"My wand!" Peter cried in dismay, staring at his empty hand. Sirius frowned and peered into the hole.

"I don't see it," he said. "Must've gone out when you dropped it."

"I didn't drop it!" Peter argued. "_You_ knocked it out of my hand."

"Did not!"

James sighed. "Never mind _that_. Just keep an eye out. I'll go get it."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Remus asked as James swung his legs up and into the hole, which was large enough to allow him entry, although it would be a bit of a squeeze for a much larger person.

With a shrug, James squinted into the impenetrable darkness. "Not really." And he slithered through, holding his breath as he dropped down. His feet found slanted stone and slid out from under him, and James found himself skidding down a kind of chute that led deeper and deeper, until the square of light above vanished entirely.

Just when James was beginning to wonder whether he ought to have thought this through a bit more, he reached the bottom of the chute and rolled onto a dusty, uneven floor.

"_Lumos_," he muttered, and light flooded the tunnel – for it _was_ a tunnel, James now saw. A narrow, winding tunnel that led away without any sign of doors or side passages. The floor was pitted and damp, and cobwebs trailed from the ceiling. For a moment, James pondered seeing where the tunnel led, but he quickly remembered his friends, who would be waiting for him.

He turned back to the chute that had brought him down here. "Oi! I made it!"

His voice echoed in the tunnel, but he heard no response, which probably meant the others couldn't hear him, either. Sighing, he eyed the chute. It didn't look terribly steep; he could climb up it easily enough.

But first, he had to find Peter's wand. He had to scan the ground for a few minutes before he found it, lying up against the wall several feet away. Shoving it in his pocket, he turned to begin the long climb back to the One-Eyed Witch. The chute had been worn into a smooth, shallow furrow by countless bodies sliding down as James' had, but a narrow ledge on either side provided plenty of traction. So James straddled the chute and crawled upward.

Just as he made it far enough along to make out a tiny blotch of light in the distance, indistinct voices floated down toward him and a shadow blocked the light for a brief moment. Seconds later, Sirius careened into the circle of light cast by James' wand. James had no time to react; Sirius' flailing arms swept James' legs out from under him, and James fell face-down on the chute, his spectacles flying off.

The two boys landed in a heap on the rough floor, and James began at once to search for his spectacles.

A frightened yelp sounded as Peter rolled to a stop next to them. He scrambled to his feet and James heard a crunch. "Uh-oh…"

James groaned as, for the second time that day, the broken pieces of his spectacles were pressed into his palm. Then Sirius dragged him and Peter aside as Remus appeared on the chute.

"Again?" Remus asked, amused, when he saw James' spectacles. James merely grunted, and Remus obligingly tapped the twisted frames with his wand. "_Reparo_. Honestly, James, do we have to get you indestructible specs?"

"They make those?" James asked hopefully as he put his spectacles back on his face.

Remus just chuckled.

"Where are we?" Peter asked, gaping at the tunnel around them. "Thanks," he added when James handed him his wand.

Sirius was already grinning. "It _is_ a secret passage! Let's go!"

He took off at a sprint, James half a step behind him. Peter and Remus followed at a more relaxed pace. After a few minutes, James and Sirius slowed, panting, as it became clear that the tunnel would not be ending any time soon.

"It's got to lead out of the castle," James said, grinning despite the stitch in his side. "Maybe off the grounds!"

Sirius' eyes widened. "Merlin – Hogsmeade, y'think?"

James didn't answer, but he buzzed with the same anticipation that showed on Sirius' face. By the time they slowed their breathing, Remus and Peter had caught up to them.

"Remus says we're not under the castle anymore," Peter said by way of greeting.

"We thought so, too," said James. "We were wondering if this might go all the way to Hogsmeade."

With a wary glance ahead, Remus frowned. "But we aren't allowed to go to Hogsmeade…"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "No one's gonna catch us."

"We still shouldn't—"

"It'll be fine," James interrupted. "We'll just see where it comes out, maybe buy something from Zonko's, and come straight back."

"Well…"

Remus said nothing more. Taking his silence for acquiescence, James continued walking. The tunnel seemed to go on for miles, winding around inexplicably until James could no longer hope to tell which direction they were headed. It certainly seemed a long enough walk to take them into Hogsmeade, but for all James knew, they were traipsing under some random mountain in the complete opposite direction.

After what must have been an hour or more, the tunnel began to slope upward. In the light from his wand, James could see it come to an abrupt end. A trapdoor was set into the roof of the tunnel.

The four boys paused to listen, but no sound came from above. Crossing his fingers, James eased the trapdoor open.

They were under what appeared to be a storeroom, boxes and barrels heaped against the walls, towering shelves bearing tins and sacks and jars. The room was dark, and James' wand light didn't extend far enough to give him a good idea what sort of place this was.

With a murmur to let his friends know the coast was clear, James hefted himself through the trapdoor and turned to help the others. Sirius came first, crossing at once to the shelves to see what they held. Then came Peter, looking nervous, and Remus, who shook his head as though regretting his decision to come along.

"Hey!" Sirius cried in excitement. "Honeydukes!" He held his wand so it illuminated the logo stamped across the side of a crate containing licorice wands.

James eyed the mountains of sweets greedily, but caught sight of Remus' frown and turned to look for a door. "Well, come on," he said. "No sense lurking in old cellars."

The others followed James across the storeroom to a flight of steps leading up to a door. Once more, James heard only silence from the other side. Cautiously pushing it open, James found himself behind the counter of a room positively bursting with colorful sweets and displays. The owner was nowhere in sight, but voices could be heard from a door across the way. James hurried across the shop and out into the fiery late-afternoon sunlight, where he found himself on Hogsmeade's main street. A handful of people scurried about, ducking into shops or pausing to chat with those passing in the other directions.

James and Sirius exchanged delighted grins. They had found a lot of secret passages since coming to Hogwarts, but this one topped them all. Free access to Hogsmeade - and thus, to candy, to joke items, and to whatever else they happened to need - whenever they cared to go. It was Christmas come early, and James couldn't even be bothered by Remus' nervous pleas to turn back.

"Race you to Zonko's!" James called to Sirius, and the two took off down the street, laughing all the way.


	9. Unexpected Advice

**Chapter 9: Unexpected Advice**

James and Sirius were delighted with their newfound route directly into Hogsmeade. In the coming week, they used it three more times to stock up on prank supplies and sweets. Remus steadfastly refused to return to the One-Eyed Witch Passage, as school rules clearly forbade second years from visiting Hogsmeade. Fortunately, though, Remus did not try to stop his friends from such blatant rule-breaking. In fact, when James announced that he and Peter would be slipping out one afternoon to pick up presents for Sirius' upcoming thirteenth birthday, Remus not only agreed to keep Sirius busy for a few hours, but he gave James money to buy Sirius some Every-Flavor Beans in his stead.

Halloween fell on the following Tuesday, and the boys spent much of the intervening weekend working out a plan. Saturday, after April Rohrs' extra Quidditch practice, found them gathered in their dormitory. Remus sat at his desk working on an Astronomy essay while the other three had taken over James' bed with a chaotic mess of parchment, quills, and chocolate frog wrappers.

"I don't see why you can't just set off dungbombs in the loo or something," Remus muttered as he paused in writing his essay to check the book.

"It's _Halloween_." Sirius sounded scandalized. "This can't just be any old prank."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Of course. How silly of me."

"I mean, come _on_," Sirius continued, ignoring Remus' sarcasm. "Halloween is a prankster's Christmas!" A sly look entered his eyes and he leaned toward James. "You know, I always thought I should've been born a day earlier."

James chuckled. Sirius had been trying to weasel information about his birthday gifts out of his friends for several days now, and he was growing perpetually less subtle about it. "You think if your birthday was on Halloween we could just prank you, instead of buying you anything?"

A wounded expression crossed Sirius' face; James and Peter laughed, and even Remus smiled. "_James!_" Sirius whined. "You can't prank me! We're best mates!"

Ignoring Sirius, James turned his attention to the plans spread across his comforter. On one of his trips to Hogsmeade, he had discovered Barry Blethly's Barrier in a Box, a do-it-yourself home security kit that produced low-level barrier charms in a customizable layout.

According to the packaging, the barriers would "keep diaries, broom sheds, and firewhiskey stashes safe from pets and wild animals, children and muggles!" Below a picture of a wizard straining valiantly against an invisible barrier, a disclaimer warned that, due to the unpredictable nature of accidental magic, Barry Blethly's could not guarantee that their product would, in fact, keep children away from firewhiskey stashes. _For entertainment purposes only_, it added in small gray letters.

"We should put it right outside the Great Hall," Sirius said, tapping a spot on the rough sketch they'd made of the Entrance Hall and the corridors leading off of it. "Catch everyone as they're leaving breakfast – might get the first lesson cancelled, if we really work at it."

"That'll waste half the range," James argued. "We don't want it going into the Great Hall."

Sirius frowned. "So where do we put it?"

"Dungeons?" James suggested.

"First floor landing?" added Peter.

"Empty classroom?" said Sirius.

"Broom closet?"

"Secret passage?"

"Kitchens?"

"Filch's office," Remus said distractedly. He ignored his friends' dropped jaws as he frowned and crossed out whatever he had just written in his essay.

"F-Filch's office?" Sirius spluttered at last. "Merlin's beard, Remus! Are you mad?"

Remus dipped his quill in his ink pot. "No."

James shook his head, still staring incredulously at their friend. "Are you _trying_ to get us caught?"

"No."

"Filch's _office_?" Sirius asked again, his eyes bulging.

Remus nodded. "If you can manage it."

"Of course we can manage it!" Bristling, James, crossed his arms and scowled at Remus, who continued writing, completely oblivious to James' indignation. "I just don't see why we'd _want_ to."

"Well." With a satisfied nod, Remus set down his quill, rolled up his essay, and turned toward his friends. "You said the professors will have to find that Barry-whatever box in order to get rid of the walls, right?"

Sirius snatched up the box. "'Self-regeneration capabilities,'" he read.

"Right," said James. "So even if the professors can get through the barrier charms—"

"Which they _will_," Remus pointed out.

James rolled his eyes. "Even _if_ they do, the barrier charm will just fix itself. The students'll still be stuck— some of them, at least," he added stubbornly as Remus gave him a dubious look.

"So, yes," Remus said, rolling his eyes. "They have to get to the box."

Exchanging a glance with Peter and Sirius, James nodded. "So?"

"_So_, who's going to notice one little box with all of the joke items Filch has already confiscated?"

For the second time, James' jaw dropped. "Remus…"

"That's _brilliant_!" Sirius cried. "James! How far's Filch's office from the Entrance Hall?"

"Er…" James screwed up his face, trying to picture the back corridor, which he usually tried to avoid. "Just around the corner – maybe seventy or eighty feet? How big's the range on that thing?"

"Two hundred fifty," Sirius said. "So we should be able to cover all of the Entrance Hall, maybe some of the corridors, too."

Pulling a face, James scratched a few notes on their scribbled map of the ground floor. "This'd be easier if we had a map… Hey! Remus, you wouldn't happen to know if—"

Remus cut him off with a sigh. "Haven't any of you read _Hogwarts: A History_?"

"Yes," said James, winning an incredulous look from Remus. "Mostly… Hey, I skimmed it! Er… Why?"

"Hogwarts is unplottable," Remus said. "You can't just wave your wand and make a map of this place."

"Oh." James deflated a little. "Bugger."

"You could go down there and _measure_."

Sirius scowled. "What, by _hand_? No thanks."

"We'll just… estimate."

With a shrug, Remus grabbed his school bag from the floor by his trunk. "Suit yourself. I'm off to the library."

"What for?" James asked distractedly. Remus merely shrugged, so James snickered. "Gonna meet up with Evans?"

Still Remus didn't answer, but a dull red flush crept up his neck, and Sirius gasped.

"Blimey! You _are_!"

James crinkled his nose. "What d'you wanna spend time with _her_ for?"

"We're working on an extra credit assignment for Flitwick," Remus murmured.

"You don't need extra credit, Remus," Peter said, surprised. "You and Lily are top of our year!"

Remus scratched his neck. "It's a great opportunity to find out more about atmospheric charms. We won't actually learn them until the NEWT level, but it's never too soon to start reading up on the theory."

"Whatever you say, Rems," Sirius muttered. "If you need us, we'll be here doing something more productive."

-.-.-

By the time Monday rolled around, nearly everything was set. They'd planned on activating the Barrier-in-a-Box during breakfast the next day, but then Sirius pointed out that if they waited until lunch, then instead of missing Transfigurations, they would miss Defense with Lynx. Even Lily wouldn't complain about that.

Monday evening, Peter and Sirius caused a distraction on the fifth floor so James could hide the box. The previous year, James and Sirius had discovered a passage behind a dragon slayer's portrait that led into Filch's office, so James managed to slip in unnoticed and add the box to a haphazard heap of objects in a corner marked volatile and highly dangerous. Pausing just long enough to ensure that nothing would topple on account of the new addition, James left the way he had come and returned to the common room to await his friends.

Not five minutes later, Sirius and Peter burst through the portrait hole, puffing and wheezing, and collapsed on a couch near James and Remus, who was once again working on homework.

"Blimey!" Sirius gasped out, smoothing down his frazzled hair. "That cat is a demon!"

"Mrs. Norris?" Remus asked, skeptical. "You realize she only hates you because you're always breaking rules."

With a solemn nod, Sirius said, "Exactly. It's a demon."

James chuckled, but sent a nervous glance around to ensure no one else was listening in. "You didn't get caught?"

"Are you kidding?" Sirius scoffed. "Ol' Filch couldn't catch us with a hundred demon cats!"

Peter shuddered. "Don't even joke about that," he moaned. "We barely got away from _one_ Mrs. Norris."

Scowling, Sirius discretely pulled his robes aside. A silvery shimmer betrayed the presence of James' invisibility cloak, which he had lent to Peter and Sirius to keep Filch from finding out who was behind the diversion. "It was almost like that cat could _see_ us," Sirius hissed, glancing around as James had a moment before.

"That's impossible," James said. "Isn't it, Remus?"

Remus merely shrugged and turned his attention back to his homework. "How should I know?"

-.-.-

And then it was Tuesday – Halloween.

Nervous anticipation permeated the Great Hall at breakfast as the students, professors, and even the ghosts – everyone, in short, but the first years – waited for a prank. No doubt they were thinking of the Prewett twins, and of the pranks James and Sirius had helped them with the previous year.

But as the morning wore on with no signs of anything amiss, the school began to relax, almost seeming to believe that they would finally make it through a Halloween without a hitch.

How wrong they were.

-.-.-

James muttered the password that controlled the Barrier-in-a-Box and watched as the bluish, translucent shields sprang up beyond the Great Hall's doors. The lunch hour was nearly over, and James knew it was only a matter of time before the students began to leave for their afternoon lessons. Sure enough…

"Ow!"

"Hey!"

"What the—?"

Sirius snorted into his pumpkin juice but managed an expression of benign curiosity as he turned toward the commotion.

Bertha Jorkins and her two friends, Monica and Petra, had run headlong into the first barrier and now stumbled back, rubbing their noses. A confused mumbling rippled through the hall as Monica pushed against the barrier, frowning deeply.

"A shield charm?" Petra asked, also laying a hand on the barrier.

Monica frowned. "What for?"

A mad glint entered Bertha's eyes, and she glanced around the Hall, which had gone suddenly still. "Isn't it obvious?" she asked in a voice carefully calculated to carry all the way to the head table while still sounding somehow secretive. "We're under attack!"

Several of the younger students gasped; one or two fell out of their seats in fright, which made Bertha positively radiate self-importance. James, Sirius, and Peter exchanged bemused glances while Remus rolled his eyes. Petra wasted no time in scolding Bertha for her overactive imagination, while Monica assured a nearby first year that no one was attacking Hogwarts.

"_What_ is going on?" Professor McGonagall demanded, approaching the doors with a weary resignation.

Bertha opened her mouth to answer, but Petra cut her off: "There's some sort of shield charm blocking the way, Professor."

McGonagall frowned and waved her wand. "There," she said as the stretch of barrier across the door blinked out of existence. "Now, Miss Jorkins, Miss Banville, Miss Danes, if you would kindly—" She stopped abruptly as the barrier reappeared. Once more, McGonagall waved her wand, and once more the barrier vanished, only to fix itself a moment later.

"So far, so good," Sirius murmured, and James hid a smile.

By this time, the other professors had risen from the table and come to join McGonagall in investigating the mysterious barrier. Quite a few students had also come to see what was the matter. The professors tried a handful of charms and counterspells to get rid of the barrier, but each time, the shiny, nearly-invisible wall refused to stay down.

At length, Professor Sprout sighed and checked her watch. "It's nearly time for the next lesson," she said, glancing at the gathered crowd, which now included most of the student body. "If we send them through, we'll at least have until the feast tonight to figure out how to deal with this blasted barrier."

The other professors agreed, and within a few seconds, they had begun sending students through in groups of two or three. The professors' stress eased ever-so-slightly, until—

"OW!"

"_Again_?"

"Oh, for love of—!"

Professor McGonagall looked seconds away from exploding as the supposedly-liberated students ran straight into more barriers. The staff took a moment to deliberate – James caught the words "security charm" and "magical hub" mixed together with a string of curses from McGonagall about Halloween and pranksters and what sounded like, "Why are they always in _my_ House?"

Then Professor Dumbledore turned back to the students with a patient smile. "It seems this will take some time. I'm afraid we may have to cancel lessons." A happy murmur greeted Dumbledore's announcement, and James was sure the Headmaster's eyes lingered on him rather longer than necessary, twinkling in amusement. "Why don't you all wait here while the professors and I sort this out?"

When the majority of the students nodded and mumbled their agreement, the professors split up to begin the search for the source of the barrier spell. The students who had gotten stuck on the other side of the first barrier were let back into the Great Hall by Professor Flitwick. As soon as the adults were out of earshot, however, one of these students spoke up.

"It's a maze," hissed Roger Smith, a Hufflepuff in James' year.

His classmate, Rachel Goodwin, frowned. "What?"

"Those walls," Roger said, gesturing toward the Entrance Hall. "I think it's a maze."

"So?"

"_So_, we could find our way through them."

Thalia Overman, a Ravenclaw, frowned. "Why would we want to do _that_? The professors told us to wait here!"

"That's boring," said the Gryffindor Beater Harvey Cross. "Why mope around here when we could be hanging out in the common room?"

"They've already cancelled lessons," added Kendrick Hattan, the other Beater.

Though many students looked dubious about the prospect of feeling their way through a nigh-invisible labyrinth, many more agreed that, as long as they had a free afternoon, they might as well enjoy it. Half of the Gryffindors and Slytherins streamed for the doors at once, soon finding the narrow gap in the barrier near the right edge. They were soon followed by two dozen Hufflepuffs and a handful of Ravenclaws who seemed to think that the navigation of the maze was, itself, entertainment enough.

James and his friends hung back until enough students had entered the maze that the professors could hardly single the pranksters out, then charged ahead and tried to remember how they'd arranged the barriers.

After ten minutes, Peeves the Poltergeist made an appearance. He delighted at the sight of a hundred students trapped in a small space and began to assault them with water, mud, inkpots, and gobstones. The students all quickened their pace and, soon enough, began to emerge into open corridors, where they whooped and scurried off to enjoy their lesson-free Halloween afternoon.

-.-.-

James would have expected Sirius to sleep in the next day. After the Halloween Feast, James, Sirius, and Peter had prowled the corridors until after midnight, at which point Sirius tried to convince them that, as it was technically November first, they should let him open his presents straight away. Only the fact that Remus was already asleep made Sirius give up and sullenly craw into bed.

But the sun was hardly up before Sirius leaped on top of James, who yelped in pain and alarm. Several of the other boys groaned at the noise, but Sirius didn't seem to notice.

"Good morning!" he sang cheerily. When James didn't respond in kind, Sirius gave him a rough shake. "Get up!"

"Gerroff," James muttered, swinging his hand blindly in the direction of Sirius' voice.

Sirius laughed. "Up! C'mon, up!"

"I'm not a _broom_, Sirius."

"You know what today is?"

"No." James ignored Sirius' snort and buried his head under his pillow. "Ask me again in the morning."

"It _is_ morning! Get up!"

"Would you gits shut up?" Frank Longbottom muttered from the next bed over.

Sirius chuckled. "James, I think you're annoying him."

"_I'm _annoying him?"

Suddenly, the weight lifted from James' bed. Curious, he groped for his spectacles and rolled over to see what Sirius was planning next, but Sirius looked as surprised as James – Remus, looking bleary-eyed and cranky, had seized Sirius by the shoulders and steered him forcefully toward the door.

"Go," he grunted, opening the door and pointing to the stairs beyond.

"_Re-mus!_" Sirius whined.

Remus crossed his arms. "Wait in the common room. We'll meet you down there with the presents in a bit."

"But—"

"_Now_, Sirius."

James chuckled at the dumbstruck look Sirius wore as Remus shut the door in his face. "Well, that was rather _rude_," he teased as Remus stumbled to his trunk. "And on his birthday, too."

Remus snorted and tossed a shoe at Peter, who hadn't moved throughout the exchange. "You two had better get up. I can't imagine he'll wait for us for long."

Unable to argue with this, James grudgingly rolled out of bed and checked his alarm clock. Quarter to six. With a groan, James pulled on his dressing gown and crouched to fish around under his bed for his slippers.

Five minutes later, having roused Peter with considerable difficulty, the three boys grabbed Sirius' presents, shot envious glances at their happily slumbering dormmates, and trudged down to the common room. Sirius all but pounced on them as they arrived, and James had to clutch his gift to his chest to stop Sirius tearing it open then and there. At length, they managed to convince Sirius to at least sit down, though Peter's suggestion of finding some tea was shot down vehemently.

"Mine first," James said – but held the box over his head as Sirius made a lunge for it. "Blimey, mate. Were you this rabid last year?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Last year, I wasn't expecting anything."

James rapped him on the head with his gift. "Oi!"

"What?" Sirius asked. "You were my only friend, and you were eleven blinking years old. How was I supposed to know you had all that pocket money?"

"Point taken." James grinned. "But before you open this—" he added as Sirius made another grab for the box— "you have to know that this isn't _really_ your gift."

Suspicion flitted across Sirius' face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," said James, "that you're going to have to wait a bit to get your real gift. What's in here is more of a… a hint."

With those words (and a broad grin), James handed over the box. Sirius shook it, then opened it almost warily. Nestled in a wad of old magazine pages was a bottle of Frog Spawn Soap. Sirius beamed, then frowned. "What kind of hint is this supposed to be?" James smirked. "And when am I going to get the real thing?" James snickered. "James!"

"It's a surprise!" James teased, waggling his finger. "But you've got everything you need to figure it out – I swear."

Sirius scowled and turned the bottle over in his hands. "You got me Frog Spawn Soap for Christmas last year…" he said slowly, and when James laughed out loud, Sirius' jaw dropped. "I have to wait till _Christmas_?"

"Hey, you've figured out half of it already!"

As Sirius spluttered vague protests that it wasn't fair to make him wait almost two whole months for his present, James smirked to himself, knowing that when Sirius finally got his real present, the injustice of the wait would be forgotten. He'd been planning this for weeks, and Sirius was every bit as curious as James had expected. But eventually, Sirius gave up on figuring out the hint James had given him and opened the others' presents – a handful of joke items from Peter and some candy from Remus.

By the time Sirius had finished exclaiming over his presents and whining to James, the other Gryffindors were stirring, so the four friends returned to their dormitory to change before heading down to breakfast.


	10. Fun and Games

**Chapter 10: Fun and Games**

Saturday dawned clear and cold, frost on the ground and a stiff wind ruffling the surface of the Black Lake, but James hardly felt the chill in the air, so excited was he for his first Quidditch match. After making his friends swear for the thirtieth time that they would be there ("As if anything could make us miss it!" Sirius had laughed), James headed down to the changing rooms with the rest of the team.

"Alright, everyone," said April Rohrs in a clipped voice once they had all gathered. "You ready?"

"Of course!" said James at once. "We're Gryffindors! We'd never lose to that lot of snakes on brooms!"

Harvey Cross snickered. "Careful, April. I think someone's aiming for your spot, O Mighty Captain."

Rolling her eyes, April began to pace back and forth between the benches on which the team sat. "They've got a new Beater this year, Rosier I think it was, and I doubt he's up to snuff, but Goyle's bloody vicious." The team had heard all this before, of course, but they listened in rapt attention anyway, if only because it seemed to calm April. "Kendrick, Harvey, stay on top of them. I don't want them to lay a bat on those bludgers."

The two boys raised their Beaters' bats in salute.

"Their Chasers play dirty, but they're about as bright as flobberworms, and you know they only put Crabbe on Keeper because he's so wide he can block a hoop and a half without moving. You three—" She pointed to the Chasers: James, Margret Salano, and Rhonda Red— "eyes open; use your speed. Keep the quaffle moving if you can – maybe it'll confuse them into letting a few easy goals past.

"And then there's Malfoy," she went on, lip curling.

"Want us to crack his skull open?" asked Kendrick hopefully, but April shook her head.

"Focus on their Chasers, and see if you can't unseat Crabbe. Leave Malfoy to me."

James snorted. "Still don't see why they've got him Seeking. He can't even catch me and Sirius after we hex him. He doesn't stand a chance against the snitch, let alone April!"

Beaming, April caught up her broom. "Exactly. Let's go."

Cheers filled the stadium as the Gryffindor team filed out onto the pitch. Six enormous boys and Macy Nott, a fifth year who looked positively tiny next to the others, despite the fact that two of them were only third years, stood near Madam Hooch, doing their best to look intimidating. James flashed a confident grin toward Lucius Malfoy, who sneered back.

_Wish I was Seeker so I could knock him off his high hippogriff,_ James thought. _But then, April's gonna do that no problem!_

"Captains, shake hands," Madam Hooch ordered curtly. April and Malfoy stepped forward and fleetingly grasped each other's hand before quickly breaking contact. Madam Hooch turned to the ball case as the teams mounted their brooms.

The magnified voice of Petra Banville, the fourth year Gryffindor who provided commentary at each match, rang out over the stadium: "For the blind and stupid among us—" She coughed something that sounded suspiciously like _Slytherins_— "the snitch has just been released!"

Madam Hooch glanced around to make sure both teams were ready, then tossed the quaffle skyward and sounded her whistle. James and the others kicked off, speeding upward, the wind howling in their ears.

"And they're off! Margret Salano of Gryffindor in possession— Stupendously inept those Slytherin Chasers are! Nott and Nott already unseated by a pair of bludgers from Hattan and Cross!"

James grinned as the Nott siblings fell away, out of his line of sight, but he didn't let the (admittedly satisfying) temporary victory distract him. He blocked Wilkes, the other Slytherin Chaser, who was trying to check Margret, as Rhonda circled around behind the hoops.

"Salano's closing the distance – Goyle and Rosier flailing their bats about uselessly as Hattan and Cross regain control of the bludgers – Crabbe looking ready to block Salano's charge! They really _are _blind gits, aren't they? Sorry, Professor," Petra added, no doubt at a sharp look from McGonagall, who was always around to keep the commentators in check. "Salano passes right over Crabbe's head to Red – almost got to feel sorry for Crabbe; he looks like a confounded troll – AND RED SCORES!"

With a whoop, James pulled around, directing a rude gesture toward Wilkes, who looked murderous – until Kendrick dispatched him with a bludger from behind.

"Timothy Nott in possession for Slytherin, the younger Nott right behind him – headed for McLaggen at the Gryffindor hoops – HA! Nott-One takes a bludger to the head and drops the quaffle – picked up by Nott-Two—"

The crowd let out a collective gasp loud enough to drown out Petra's voice for a moment. James knew that either April or Malfoy must have made a play for the Snitch, but he resisted the urge to look, darting ahead instead toward Macy Nott, who had made the mistake of turning her head toward the commotion. In a flash, James had swiped the quaffle right out of her hand and veered around.

Halfway back to the Slytherin hoops, James heard a disappointed sigh from the crowd. He lobbed the quaffle to Rhonda and rolled aside as a bludger soared his way. Harvey was already shooting after it, calling out an apology to James, who ignored it and righted himself.

Rhonda had passed the quaffle off to Margret, who was now being hounded by the older Nott and Rosier. He caught her eye and dropped below her – she released the quaffle a split second before the Slytherin Chasers converged on her. It fell into James' waiting hands, and as he shot ahead, James heard a bludger impact he hoped had come from Kendrick or Harvey.

Crabbe seemed to be opting for the Boulder Defense – which was to say, he hovered in front of the center hoop like a large and stationary rock, making it painfully easy for James to swerve around him and score another goal.

The game continued in this manner for some time, until James had long since lost track of the score. He knew Gryffindor led, but he wasn't sure of the margin. Not that it mattered, not so long as April kept up her three-year streak and caught the snitch before Malfoy. Meanwhile, Kendrick and Harvey were doing an excellent job of dominating the bludgers, such that James only had two close calls, while the Slytherin Chasers always seemed to be down at least one member.

The glaring weakness in Slytherin's offense was that their Chasers rarely worked together, preferring instead to blaze ahead alone. Only Macy Nott seemed capable of thinking beyond the end of her own broom, and thanks to her efforts, Slytherin had managed to slip a goal or two past Wilbur McLaggen.

Mere moments seemed to have passed before it happened.

"Potter in possession – passes to Red – to Potter – to Salano – Nott-One makes a move – YES! TAKE THAT, YOU BA—!"

"MISS BANVILLE!" McGonagall shrieked.

"Just saying, Professor – Nott taken out by dual bludgers from the Gryffindor Beaters – and Potter has the Quaffle again and— What's that? Rohrs is off like a flash, Malfoy in pursuit, but—" Petra broke off with a whistle. "Now that's what I call flying! Made Malfoy's head spin, that's for sure – he's falling behind, and April's got a fire in her eyes – She's – she's – YES! APRIL ROHRS HAS THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

James abandoned the quaffle at once, streaking toward the ground, where the team was gathering around April, who held the struggling snitch in her fist. The roar of the crowd filled James ears as he joined in the celebration, his heart soaring with the thrill of his first victory.

"JAMES!" Sirius roared, sprinting toward the team with a mad grin splitting his face. "That was _brilliant!_" He clapped James on the back, but turned at once to Kendrick and Harvey and proceeded to gush about how amazing their Beating had been, and how Goyle and Rosier looked like great stupid sneak-o-scopes around a pack of thieves with as much as they'd spun around searching for something to do.

James grinned.

Suddenly Peter seized James around the shoulders, face a mask of awe. "James, you were amazing! Really – the best Chaser I've ever seen!"

"Very impressive," Remus agreed with a small smile, staying a few feet away so as not to get caught up in Peter's exuberance.

"I was, wasn't I?" James asked, standing a bit taller. Remus just rolled his eyes.

Someone in the crowd called for a party, and others took up the chant, ignoring the disapproval evident on McGonagall's face. The students streamed back toward the castle, and James and his friends quickly slipped off to the kitchens to get snacks for the celebration.

-.-.-

The Gryffindors' euphoria lasted late into the night, when the prefects finally herded everyone up to their dormitories. Several students – James and Sirius among them – wanted to resume the celebration the next morning, but Remus, Lily Evans, and Eliot Donovan, who had all grudgingly given up their normal Saturday evening study session, would have none of it.

They were therefore run out of the common room, ultimately reconvening by the Whomping Willow. The game of tag had grown steadily over the past weeks, and by now the pot was up to almost fifty galleons. James and Sirius joined the others eagerly in pitting themselves against the murderous tree.

It might have been the lingering sense of invincibility the victory over Slytherin had instilled in the Gryffindors. It might have been the surprisingly warm morning, which drew a rather larger crowd than usual to tree to egg one another on. It might simply have been that, after a year of mere lumps and bruises, something far worse was bound to happen.

Fair-haired Davey Gudgeon stepped forward as Chris Stebbins stumbled backward into Rachel Goodwin. Davey leveled a confident gaze at the tree, flashed a grin toward his friends, and broke into a sprint. The Willow writhed and thrashed more violently than ever, seemingly angry at the multitude of noisy irritations darting about its roots.

At first, it seemed Davey was doing alright – he dodged a branch aimed for his knees and spun aside as another smashed into the ground to his left. A buzz ran through the crowd – might Davey be the one to finally touch the trunk? He certainly seemed to have gotten a handle on the rhythm of the Willow's thrashing.

A branch came out of nowhere; several people screamed in a blend of fear and excitement. Davey turned as though in slow motion.

The branch connected with the side of his head with a _crack_, and Davey went down.

For a long moment, no one moved. They, like James, seemed to expect Davey to leap to his feet in an instant and run, laughing, back to safety. Only when a branch walloped his prone form did the crowd come out of their stupor. Screams and gasps filled the air as everyone started talking simultaneously. A few turned at once to run away, and many more soon followed.

Where there had been two or three dozen spectators, suddenly only a handful remained, the rest gone to find help or just to hide. James ignored them all and edged forward, unable to tear his eyes from Davey.

"James!" Sirius cried. "What are you doing?"

"Getting Davey!" James snapped, dancing back as the Willow made a swipe at him.

"Careful!" Peter let out a little moan of fright as James took a blow to the shoulder.

Gritting his teeth, James tried again to move forward, only to be blocked at every turn by the flailing plant.

Suddenly, Sirius appeared at his side, swearing vehemently as the pair ducked a particularly thick bough. "You – are – _barking_!" Sirius thundered. "Completely mad!"

"Go back, then," James grunted, but Sirius shook his head stubbornly.

"Not a chance."

Smiling grimly, James turned his attention back to Davey Gudgeon. But still they couldn't reach their fallen Housemate. The Whomping Willow drove them back with a flurry of leaves and creaking wood, and it was all James could do not to wind up in the same state as the boy he was trying to rescue.

Peter let out a wordless cry, and James tensed, expecting the worst.

The tree froze – so suddenly that it took James a moment to realize someone was shouting at him.

"WHAT THE _BLOODY HELL_ ARE YOU _DOING?"_

James spun, cold dread tightening in his chest. Remus stood there, ghostly pale but with a fire raging in his golden eyes, face twisted into an expression James had never seen – fury mixed with terror and something else James couldn't identify. Shaking, Remus hurled aside the long stick in his hand, apparently unable to say any more.

Time seemed to slow as James searched for something, _anything_, to say to make Remus stop looking at him like that.

Then the Willow's branches twitched, and James tore his eyes and thoughts from his friend and hurried to where Davey lay. They had to get him out of there. James crouched beside Davey, feeling dizzy. There was so much blood…

"James!" Sirius snapped, already dragging Davey away from the tree. "_Help!_"

Shaking himself, James grabbed Davey around the knees, forcing himself not to look at the mangled crimson mess that was Davey's face. Together, James and Sirius carried Davey beyond the Willow's reach – and just in time. Even as they carefully lowered Davey to the ground, the Willow came fully alive once more, beating the ground so violently that dirt rained down upon them in cold, dark chunks.

Ignoring the tree, James turned back to Remus, whose face had become unreadable, a grave and stony mask.

"Remus…" James began.

Something flashed in the boy's eyes. "Save it." Not giving James a chance to say any more, Remus turned and stalked away – away from James and Sirius, away from the Whomping Willow, away from the castle. Where he was going, James didn't know. He wanted to run after him, explain what had happened, make Remus understand that—

_That _what_? _said a small voice in James' head. _That you're a complete moron? That whatever happens to Davey is your fault? That Remus is completely justified in hating you?_

James felt numb. Staring after Remus, who had disappeared around a rise of land, James found himself unable to speak or move, visions of Davey's bloody face rising in his mind and making him want to crumple up and die.

"Potter! Black! What is— Oh, sweet Merlin!"

James turned sluggishly toward the voice. Professor McGonagall hastened toward them, looking so pale and stricken that her usual strict disposition had fallen by the wayside. Forgetting James and Sirius, she went at once to Davey Gudgeon and loaded him onto a conjured stretcher.

"My office – all of you," she ordered as an afterthought. And then she was gone, whisking Davey away to the Hospital Wing.

Only then did James realize that Edgar Bones and Justine Munslow, a pair of Hufflepuffs who had been in on the game, had been the ones to find McGonagall and tell her what had happened. An uncomfortable silence stretched on, and then the two Hufflepuffs turned and trudged toward the castle. With a guilty look at Sirius and Peter, James followed.

-.-.-

A long, miserable silence awaited them in Professor McGonagall's office. Dark thoughts chased themselves in circles in James' mind – Remus' fury, Davey's still form, McGonagall's palpable fear. Would Davey be alright, James wondered, or had the Willow killed him? It had been so stupid of them – so completely and utterly _brainless_ of them! How had none of them seen how dangerous it was? And after Professor Dumbledore had warned them to stay away from the Whomping Willow! It was a miracle no one had been hurt before.

Twice the door opened, and all those gathered inside jumped, expecting McGonagall to arrive and pronounce their doom. Instead, they were joined by more students from the game – first Frank Longbottom and Alexander Thorne, and then a trio of Ravenclaws led by Chris Stebbins. The newcomers joined the vigil, none of them making a sound.

When Professor McGonagall finally arrived, she had Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout with her and several more students in tow. James did a quick headcount (more to avoid the professors' furious gazes than anything) and saw three Ravenclaws, five Hufflepuffs, and seven Gryffindors standing shamefaced and silent before the professors. They were fifteen in all, nearly half the players who had been present that day.

Professor McGonagall did not move from the doorway, but glared at each in turn, her lips pressed together into a thin white line. "Explain," she said shortly.

There was a long silence.

"It was my idea." James had to force the words out, and at once, he felt the force of seventeen pairs of eyes on him. He licked his lips. "I… I thought it would be—" He grimaced— "_fun_ to try to touch the Whomping Willow's trunk."

Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared, and Professor Sprout gave an incredulous snort. James ducked his head, unable to bear looking at them.

"It was a dare," said Sirius firmly, and James shot him a surprised glance. Sirius ignored him. "James and I dared each other to touch the trunk, and then some other people heard about it, and, well…" He gestured around helplessly.

James spotted Peter out of the corner of his eye, as well as Frank. They had both warned the others about how dangerous it was to mess around with the Willow like they did, but had James listened to them?

"So you all thought it a good idea to go gallivanting around a tree that you had been warned to stay away from?" Professor Flitwick demanded. James had never heard the cheerful professor sound so utterly disappointed, and it was all James could do to squeeze his eyes shut and nod along with everyone else.

"Not Peter, though," said James. "Not Frank. They told us not to, and—"

"And then what?" Frank's voice was rough and bitter. "We didn't _do_ anything about it. It's not like we told anyone."

Professor McGonagall snorted. "How long has this been going on?"

Again there was silence, as everyone seemed to be waiting for James or Sirius to answer. James cleared his throat.

"About a year."

"_What_?" McGonagall demanded, genuinely shocked by this declaration. She exchanged glances with the other, equally flabbergasted professors.

After a long pause, Professor Sprout spoke – and even her voice was hard with disapproval. "So somehow Mr. Gudgeon's accident today was the first to land anyone in the Hospital Wing…?" She sighed. "At least you all had the presence of mind to get help. Which of you got Mr. Gudgeon away from the tree?"

James and Sirius exchanged a glance. "We did," said Sirius.

"How?" Sprout asked. "You ought to have wound up in as sorry as state as Mr. Gudgeon."

James thought of Remus, and how the Willow had stopped moving when he had arrived. What had he done? James didn't know. But he didn't want to bring Remus into the conversation; Merlin knew Remus hadn't done anything wrong, and James didn't want to make it sound like he'd been in on the game.

"I dunno," James said at last, shrugging. "We just… did. We had to! Otherwise… The Willow was still attacking him, and…"

"Indeed, Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall lifted her spectacles to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Foolish and dangerous though it may have been… You probably saved Mr. Gudgeon's life."

-.-.-

It took the three professors some time to decide on a punishment that was both severe enough to ensure that nothing like this ever happened again and practical enough to accommodate the fifteen students who had been caught thus far – McGonagall knew there had been more, and she seemed determined to hunt down every last one of them. As far as James was concerned, it didn't matter what the punishment was; detention from now until seventh year couldn't make him feel any more miserable than he already did.

From the sound of things, Professor Sprout agreed with James' unspoken thoughts, and in the end, they were given a week of detention and required to visit Davey in the Hospital Wing once a day until he was released. Immediately after this declaration, the professors herded the students into the corridor and down to the Hospital Wing for their first visit.

Davey looked terrible, James concluded, with his arm in a sling and his face covered in bandages. Madam Pomfrey's fretful mutterings didn't help matters any, for James heard her telling the professors that although she'd done her best, only time would tell if Davey would ever see out of his left eye again.

They left the Hospital Wing thoroughly depressed, but the day only got worse, as Professor Dumbledore stood up at dinner to inform the student body of what had happened and to reinforce the fact that no one was allowed near the Whomping Willow at any time. His eyes, which usually held an amused twinkle, were dark and somber as he spoke, and James found he'd lost his appetite.

Remus made a study of avoiding his friends at every opportunity, even going so far as to resume his old place next to Lily Evans in classes and at meals.

Between Remus' cold shoulder, the daily visits to see Davey's slow progress, and the nightly detentions cleaning bedpans and toilets, the next week crept by at a maddening pace. It was hard to think of anything but the accident and how stupid they had all been to mess around with the Willow. Every last one of the students who had turned themselves in – and a half dozen more had done just that after Dumbledore's speech – received Howlers the next morning, aside from the lucky few muggle-borns, whose mothers didn't have such recourse, and Sirius, whose mother apparently thought the hospitalization of a Gryffindor (and a half-blood, at that) a step in the right direction for her eldest son.

And James knew he deserved every bit of it.

Nevertheless, it was enough to drive him batty, and the following Monday, their first day free from detentions, James was ready to get out of the castle, if only for the afternoon. As Remus was still avoiding them, James, Sirius, and Peter had no trouble slipping inside the One-Eyed Witch statue unnoticed.

No one spoke as they walked, or as they shed their Hogwarts uniforms in favor of something less conspicuous. It wasn't until they gained the street that Sirius broke the silence.

"I can't believe he _still _won't talk to us."

"I can," said James heavily.

Sirius scowled. "Really? It kinda seems to me he's being an arse for no reason whatsoever."

For a moment, they walked in silence, James glaring at the ground in front of them. "We promised we wouldn't keep any secrets – d'you remember? On the train back in September. We said friends don't keep secrets from each other. And what do we do?"

"We had to!" Sirius aimed a kick at a discarded chocolate frog wrapper. "He'd've told the professors!"

"Maybe," said Peter in a small voice, "that would've been a good thing."

At that, Sirius fell silent.

"We should apologize," James said, and the others nodded. After a few more minutes, they circled back toward Honeydukes, but halfway there, a voice from a side street they were passing caught their attention.

"A haunted house?" a woman asked with a laugh. "In Hogsmeade? I think you need to lay off the Exploding BonBons, sweetheart."

"It's true!" came the voice of a young boy. "Geoff told me! He called it the Shrieking Shack, and he said – he said that – that sometimes at night, you can hear the ghosts screaming!"

The woman snorted. "Ghosts don't scream, Phillip."

"These ones do!"

James turned toward his friends, a sly grin on his face. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Haunted house?" Sirius asked, grinning as well. "Now _that's_ something I've gotta see for myself. Think it's real?"

Peter looked less than enthusiastic about the idea. "What about Remus?"

With a furtive glance toward the mother and son, who were still bickering about whether or not this "Shrieking Shack" was, in fact, haunted, James nodded. "Right. We'll go talk to him first… Then the four of us can come back and hear those ghosts."

* * *

**A/N: Wondering where Remus disappeared to after he stopped the Willow? Find out in _Moony's Story_, chapter eight: "November 1972: A Game of Tag."**


	11. Names

**Chapter 11: Names**

"So what we're saying," James muttered weakly, "is that we're sorry, Remus."

James, Sirius, and Peter stood in the doorway of their dormitory, where they had finally managed to corner Remus. For the past quarter hour, the three had taken turns tripping over each other in their attempt to explain what they had been thinking when they had dared each other to touch the Whomping Willow's trunk. Throughout it all, Remus had stood rigid, arms crossed, staring out the window and refusing to acknowledge them.

When they finally stuttered to a halt, however, Remus heaved a sigh and turned back toward them.

"You could have gotten hurt," he said faintly, staring at a dark spot on the carpet near his left foot. He looked as tense and drawn as he had for the last week, but now James could see that there was far more fear in his eyes than anger.

James bit his lip. "We know."

"You could have _died_."

"We know," Sirius said, without even a hint of sarcasm.

"We just weren't thinking." James gave Remus a thin smile. "You know us."

Rolling his eyes, Remus sat on the edge of his bed, rolling his wand between his hands. "And you swear you'll never go anywhere near the Whomping Willow again?"

"We swear," James said quickly.

Peter nodded. "Not ever."

"Even _I'm_ not that stupid." Sirius stepped forward and held out his hand toward Remus, who stared at it blankly. "We still friends?"

With a small smile, Remus took Sirius' hand. "Yeah."

-.-.-

The next day was better by far than the past week had been. Not only was Remus speaking to them again (which was itself enough to cheer them up considerably), but Davey Gudgeon was released from the Hospital Wing at last, both eyes intact. Even an afternoon with Lynx practicing _Stupefy _and the counter-spell _Rennervate_ couldn't dampen their mood, despite both spells being rather beyond their skill level and having a tendency to leave their victims dizzy and irritable.

"We need a name," Sirius declared upon reaching the common room after lessons.

James, Remus, and Peter exchanged bemused glances. They claimed their favorite couch in the corner and tossed their bags aside before Remus asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Us," said Sirius, gesturing at the other three. "Our group. We need a name."

Peter frowned. "I thought we were Hogwarts' Finest."

"Hogwarts' Finest Troublemakers," James corrected, but he was already shaking his head. "And that was the Prewetts, anyway."

"Exactly!" Sirius crossed his arms and leaned forward conspiratorially. "_They _had a name for themselves. Why not us? Besides, I doubt Remus wants to be known as a Troublemaker."

Remus had dug out his Transfigurations homework, and he didn't look up from the chapter that covered the theory of Cross-State Transfiguration as he said, "You can name yourselves whatever you want."

Sirius sidled up beside Remus. "It's not for us Remus, it's for _us_." He looped an arm around Remus' shoulders, causing the boy to look up at him. "All four of us. The Funny Four." Remus rolled his eyes. "No? The Fiendish Four. Four Fine First Years."

"But we're second years," Peter pointed out, and Sirius' winked.

"That's to throw everyone off."

James ignored Sirius and scratched his chin. "Fabled Four?"

Evidently discarding his previous ideas, Sirius said, "Fearless Four?"

"Oh, I like that. Peter?"

"Sure."

James grinned. "Remus?"

Remus arched an eyebrow and turned back to his homework.

"Okay," said James. "Not the Fearless Four. Fiery Four."

"I got it!" Sirius cried. "The Forbidden Four-est! Get it?"

James and Peter groaned, and Remus fixed Sirius with an exasperated look. "Those are all _terrible_ names. I hope you know that."

Pouting, Sirius snatched Remus' book away from him. Ignoring Remus' protests, Sirius hopped over the back of the sofa and danced away. "Well why don't you come up with something, Mr. Ravenclaw Wannabe?"

"I'm not a Ravenclaw," said Remus, sounding offended.

"You study like one," Sirius shot back.

James rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Remus. You've gotta have some ideas for a name!"

"As a matter of fact, I don't. Can I have my book back?"

"No!" Sirius shouted, grinning. "Give us a name, Rems. C'mon!"

"How about the Three Gits and the Boy Who Wants to Study?"

Sirius paused to think, then shook his head. "No… Three Gits and a Prat sounds better."

James laughed heartily as Remus lunged toward Sirius in an attempt to get his book back. Sirius dodged aside, then let out a squeak as Remus vaulted the couch and nearly landed atop him. After a brief struggle, Remus broke away, clutching his book, and returned to his seat as though nothing had happened.

With a huff, Sirius plopped down beside him. "You're no fun."

But James only grinned. "I think this is a challenge, mate," he said. "We've got to come up with a name that Remus here approves of."

"Good luck with that," muttered Remus.

James, Sirius, and Peter exchanged glances. A challenge indeed.

-.-.-

"The Prewetts' Gift to Hogwarts."

James snorted into his oatmeal. Sirius had continued spouting group names late into the night, at which point Frank Longbottom had thrown a book at him and threatened to lock him in the toilet until morning if he didn't hush up. Now that breakfast had arrived, Sirius had picked up where he'd left off.

"That'd just be you and James," Peter pointed out.

"You helped with some of the Prewetts' pranks too, Pete," Sirius argued.

James shook his head. "But Remus didn't. It's gotta fit all four of us."

Peeling an orange, Remus shot his friends a bemused look. "You keep acting like I'll be offended if I'm not included in your little group name. I promise, I don't care."

"It's the principle of the thing!" James grinned, pointing his spoon at Remus. "And when we find the right name, you'll use it as much as the rest of us."

Remus didn't look convinced, but he didn't bother to protest. Instead, he took a bite of his orange and glanced at a point above and behind James. "Your mum's sent you another care package."

Sure enough, James' eagle owl Luftwing swooped down a moment later, bearing a large, square package. James offered Luftwing a bit of sausage before tearing into the package, which (as was quickly becoming the norm) contained four smaller boxes labeled _James_, _Sirius_, _Peter_, and _Remus_. After distributing the other three to their owners, James unfolded the letter his mother had included in the package and began to read.

A small sound of surprise from Remus made James glance up. A speckled owl had dropped a small, unmarked envelope into Remus' lap and now sat pecking at Peter's care package.

"Ruddy bird," Peter muttered, taking a swing at it. "Shoo!"

"Who's it from?" Sirius asked Remus.

With a shrug, Remus broke the seal and pulled out a small scrap of torn parchment covered in cramped, spidery letters. James looked on in mild curiosity – Remus received post almost as seldom as did Sirius. Since the start of term, James could only remember Remus getting two or three letters from his mother, but if this was from Mrs. Lupin, surely Remus would have known straight away. James wondered who else had thought to write, and why.

As Remus began to read, he grew supremely still, lips parting slightly as his eyes flew across the page. The color drained from his face.

"Remus?" James asked. "What's—?"

Remus lurched to his feet before James could finish his question. The boy stood there, trembling, for one short moment before he turned and sprinted from the Great Hall. Several people watched, surprised, as he disappeared, and James was left staring after his friend in confusion and apprehension.

"Anyone wanna guess what that was about?"

Sirius and Peter shook their heads.

-.-.-

The second years had three classes that day. Remus didn't turn up at any of them. Nor was he at dinner that evening, at which point James began to worry. The last time Remus had gone missing, he'd turned up in the Hospital Wing looking like he'd been mauled by a hippogriff. James and his friends sprinted back to Gryffindor Tower after a small and hurried dinner, praying that they would find Remus there.

_Nothing's happened,_ James told himself desperately as they sprinted up the stairs. "Arpeggio!" he gasped to the Fat Lady, who swung wide with a perplexed frown. _He's fine. He has to be! _They were through the portrait hole in a heartbeat and thundering up the dormitory stairs without a word to the dozen confused Gryffindors who had been studying in the common room.

The three boys burst through the dormitory door and stopped short at the sight of Remus, sitting stock-still on the edge of his bed, staring blankly into space.

"Remus…?" James asked tentatively.

Remus didn't respond.

Exchanging an anxious glance with James and Peter, Sirius strode forward and reached out for Remus' shoulder. When Sirius' hand came down, Remus gave a violent start and leaped to his feet.

"Sirius!" he said shakily. "James. Peter."

James frowned. "Is everything alright, Remus?"

The boy visibly calmed himself before responding, "Fine."

"Why weren't you in class?" Peter asked, at which Remus looked mildly confused.

"I've missed class?"

"Three of them," said James. "And lunch. And dinner."

"Oh."

Without a word, the three of them sat down on Remus' bed, pulling the trembling boy down beside them.

Sirius cleared his throat. "Who was that letter from?"

"No one."

"Remus…"

Squirming, Remus avoided their probing looks. "It doesn't matter."

"It does to you," Peter said softly, and Remus flinched.

James nodded. "And if it matters to you, it matters to us."

Remus only shook his head and stood to cross the room. "I don't want to talk about it," he said, disappearing into the toilet. James, Sirius, and Peter didn't move until Remus returned several minutes later, his cheeks pink, the collar of his robes dark with water. He ignored his friends and sat down at his desk, picking up his Charms book.

For several minutes, nothing happened. James stared at Remus, who stared at his book. He didn't turn the page or grab a quill to take notes or acknowledge the three boys watching him intently.

Abruptly, Sirius rose from the bed. "Alright, then," he said. "That settles it."

Remus looked up, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know what that letter said that's got you all…" He waved his hand vaguely. "But we're going to snap you out of it."

"We are?" James asked, raising his eyebrow.

Peter frowned. "How?"

With a grin, Sirius hauled Remus to his feet and shoved him toward the dormitory door. "We're going out. James, get your cloak."

Although he wasn't quite sure what Sirius had in mind, James complied, tucking the invisibility cloak into his pocket and following the others down to the common room and out through the portrait hole. Sirius grinned secretively all the way, keeping his hand between Remus' shoulder blades as the boy tried to slip away.

"Where are we going?" Remus asked nervously as they started down the stairs. He glanced at his watch. "It's only twenty minutes till curfew!"

"Don't worry about that," said Sirius. "We won't get caught."

This, of course, only made Remus squirm more, and James and Peter watched in amusement as the pair wrestled each other down the corridor. But Sirius was bigger and stronger, and all of Remus' struggles were for naught. They arrived at last outside the Defense classroom, Remus and Sirius sweaty and panting.

Remus' eyes fell on the One-Eyed Witch statue. "No."

Sirius grinned. "Oh, yes. _Dissendium!_"

The panel in the statue's hump opened with a _thunk_ that echoed in the empty corridor. Not giving Remus a chance to protest, Sirius pushed him through the small, square hole. Remus tottered for a moment, gripping the rim of the opening, before he vanished with a small yelp into the darkness. Sirius vaulted through after him, followed by Peter and then James, who kept a careful hold on his spectacles— just in case.

At length, James skidded to a stop on the stone floor beside his friends. Peter had lit his wand and stood watching the other two bicker.

"—aren't supposed to be out after curfew!" Remus was saying. "And second years aren't even allowed in Hogsmeade!"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You think the professors are going to be in Hogsmeade now, when there are perfectly good corridors to patrol?"

"What has that got to do with it? Rules are rules!"

"Oh, don't be such a prat. We've got something to show you."

And once more, he grabbed Remus by the wrist to drag him along. They walked in silence for long minutes, following the twists and turns of the familiar tunnel. James was sure he could have made this journey blindfolded by now, but that didn't make it any shorter. Why did the castle have to be so far away from _everything_?

At last, they reached the trapdoor and climbed up into the darkened cellar of Honeydukes. Even Remus did so without protest, as though he realized that he couldn't get out of this. Not with Sirius being his usual stubborn self.

They gathered under the invisibility cloak and crept up the stairs to the empty shop, the candy displays mere silhouettes in the thin moonlight and the glow of Peter's wand. James crossed to one of these displays and grabbed a chocolate bar, which he tossed to Remus.

Remus tossed it right back. "That's stealing, James."

But Sirius had found a quill and scrap of parchment behind the counter. "Don't be ridiculous. Two sickles and seven knuts, mate."

At Remus' look of confusion, James grinned. "We've worked out a system with the management."

"Yeah, sure," said Peter. "A system."

"Hey, no one's called the DMLE yet!" James shot back. "Anyway, it all works out, so long as we have exact change. Or don't mind leaving a tip." He handed over three sickles to Sirius and tossed the chocolate bar back to Remus. "For dragging you out here in the middle of the night."

"Because candy makes breaking and entering alright," Remus grumbled. But he pocketed the chocolate without another word.

James frowned. "We haven't broken anything…"

Heaving a sigh, Remus shook his head. "It's a muggle thing. Don't worry about it."

"You know what would be great?" Sirius set the money and note on the counter and turned back to the others. "If we had some name to sign these notes with. So the owners know who their nighttime customers are… y'know, without _actually_ knowing."

"What, was _'We're Not Criminals, Honest!'_ already taken?"

With a patronizing smile, Sirius patted Remus on the head. "Not that I don't appreciate the effort, Remus, but you aren't very good at this naming thing. I was thinking something like _The Night Stalkers_."

"That's actually pretty good," said James, surprised.

But Remus shook his head. "You're all nutters."

"Aww, _Rems_," Sirius whined. "C'mon! We don't have to be the _Night_ Stalkers if you don't want! We don't do _everything_ after curfew."

"So, what, then?" Peter asked dubiously. "We're 'The Stalkers?'"

Sirius deflated a bit, leading the way out the backdoor and into the alley beyond. James folded a piece of parchment into a small square and wedged it between the door and jamb to keep the lock from catching. They'd made the mistake of letting it close the first time they'd snuck out to Hogsmeade at night. Upon discovering they were locked out, they'd had to draw the owner's attention with shouts and knocks at the door and sneak past him under the invisibility cloak. Even so, the man's wand had nearly put out James' eye.

Crouched together under the cloak, the four friends stole through the streets of Hogsmeade, listening to the chorusing insects and the distant slamming of doors. A handful of people roamed the streets, but the boys had no trouble steering well clear of them. The gibbous moon overhead drifted in and out of sight behind clouds, casting icy shadows on the street below.

A wintery wind blew through the town, making James wish he had grabbed his winter cloak before coming. But the four of them were pressed close together under the invisibility cloak anyway, and that warded off some of the chill.

"Will you tell me where we're going now?" Remus asked as they turned onto a deserted street.

"The Shrieking Shack," said Sirius, grinning.

Remus merely blinked. "The what?"

"Shrieking Shack. They say it's the most haunted house in all Britain."

"No they don't," James said with a snort.

The dark grin faded from Sirius' face. "Yes they do!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

"Sirius," answered Peter at once. "Or else he's been hearing voices."

Pouting, Sirius folded his arms and stumped along in silence, shooting glares toward Peter every few seconds.

Remus still looked confused. "So… _What_ is the Shrieking Shack?"

"A haunted house," said James. "If you believe the rumors."

"There are violent ghosts living there," Peter began. ("Or, you know, _not_ living there," James clarified.) "And sometimes at night you can hear them screaming… supposedly."

"Screaming ghosts?" Remus asked, frowning deeply. He looked suddenly uncomfortable. "Are you _sure_ we should go there?"

"We won't get too close to it." Peter paused. "Will we?"

Sirius waved his hand. "Of course not. Just to the sitting room or so."

James grinned. "What, not the cellar? Or the attic?"

"Are you _mad_?" Sirius asked in mock horror. "I'm curious, not suicidal!"

Laughing, they turned the corner, caught sight of the dark emptiness beyond the edge of Hogsmeade, and broke into a run. James pulled off the invisibility cloak as he went, tucking it into his robes so he could race Sirius up the uneven road winding among the trees, ducking low-hanging branches.

Peter and Remus fell behind, but James was too focused on keeping up with Sirius – and on not turning his ankle as he ran – to care. The others would catch up.

The Shrieking Shack loomed out of the darkness ahead, a thin, hunched shadow just visible against the sky. The boarded-up windows and crooked eaves were pale like exposed bone against the dark wood panels, and ropes of ivy snaked up the face of the building. It stood lonely and naked on a barren hill; a wrought-iron fence ringed the property, and the gates had been closed with a length of chain.

James and Sirius exchanged one fleeting glance before dashing to a tree that overhung the fence. They shimmied up and out along branches that groaned under their weight until they dangled on the far side of the fence. As James' feet hit the ground, Peter and Remus appeared on the road, wide-eyed and pale.

"What are you doing?" Peter hissed, rushing over to the fence, while Remus hung back, staring, horror-struck, at the Shack. His mouth hung open, but no sound came out.

"We're investigating," James said.

"So far, I'm not impressed," Sirius mused. "For a _Shrieking _Shack, it's awfully quiet."

Remus' voice drifted across the distance, faint and frightened. "Come back… You shouldn't be there… Please, just come back."

"What's the matter?" Sirius teased. "You two aren't scared of ghosts, are you?"

"You shouldn't be over there," Remus repeated, more strongly this time. "The gate's locked for a reason!"

James snickered. "Yeah, to scare off nancies like you two."

He and Sirius turned and sprinted up the hill toward the haunted house, ignoring Remus and Peter's repeated pleas to come back. The creeping shadows of the clouds made the building look alive, and James' neck tingled as though he were being watched.

He ignored this feeling, of course, and continued running until he reached the front door.

Sirius tried the door. "Locked," he said. "_Alohomora_."

Nothing happened.

Frowning, James shook the door, then gave it a kick for good measure. It remained stubbornly closed.

"That's too bad," called Remus, sounding more relieved than disappointed. "Oh, well. Let's go."

"Hold your hippogriffs." James rolled his eyes and met Sirius' gaze. "Merlin's beard, would you listen to him whine!"

Sirius snickered. "C'mon. There's bound to be another way in."

Together they turned and walked around the house, pausing every so often to try a window, the back door, a bit of siding that looked loose. They climbed on each other's shoulders and got down on their hands and knees and shot spell after spell at the house, hoping to uncover some weakness.

"_Alohomora!_"

"_Dissendium!_"

"_Diffindo!_"

"_Relashio!_"

At length, James lowered his wand. "I don't think we're getting in there, mate."

Sirius scowled, but didn't argue. After completing their circuit and finding no way in, they trudged back toward the gate, where they found Peter and Remus still waiting, faces drawn, scowling.

"Giving up?" Remus asked.

With a sigh, James nodded. "What a waste of time."

"On the bright side," said Sirius, "we got Remus to break the rules!"

Remus scowled. "You know, I _was_ going to transfigure a ladder for you two, but maybe I'll just leave you here to find your own way out."

A witty comeback died on James' lips as he glanced around. No trees grew on this side of the fence, and none of the branches hung low enough to grab. He eyed the fence itself, wondering whether he could scale it. Perhaps. Best not to risk it.

"Alright," he said hastily as Remus turned away. "We're sorry." He drove his elbow into Sirius' ribs.

Through a gasp of pain, Sirius choked out, "Yeah. Sorry. Blimey, James… That hurt."

Peter laughed as Remus returned, smirking. Remus waved his wand, and a broken branch became a ladder, which James quickly propped against the fence. In a few short seconds, he and Sirius stood beside Peter and Remus once more. Remus undid his transfiguration with a distracted flick and led the way back into Hogsmeade, the other three following close behind. They didn't speak as they trudged back to Honeydukes under the invisibility cloak, or as they slipped back into the passage in the cellar, or as they climbed up the chute to the One-Eyed Witch statue.

It was well after midnight by the time they returned to the dormitory and crawled into bed, and James' last thought before he fell asleep was that the Shrieking Shack must not be haunted, after all.

* * *

**A/N: Don't think Sirius is giving up on his little name game just yet! It'll show up again. In the meantime, if you want to see more naming nonsense, check out "What's in a Name?" by Xandera-Orelia (see my Favorite Authors). She started it way back when I told her about this chapter (Yes, I write that far ahead - when I can - but only because when I don't, you guys actually notice things like the month-long writer's block I'm only just now getting over.) Anyway, "What's in a Name?" has pranks and names and Maraudery goodness that you all should go check out!**

**Also check out _Padfoot's Story_ chapter 5 - "Family Names" - for a little bit of background on why Sirius suddenly wants a group name.  
**


	12. Haunted

**A/N: ****We're quickly coming up to 100 reviews on this story, which is a big deal for me. I've never reached triple digits before! So thanks to everyone who's supported my stories so far - by reviewing, by faving, or just by reading what I've written. I'm thinking of doing a kiriban soon, to celebrate. I'll have more info with my next update, but for now, enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter 12: Haunted**

"Defendin' yourself and disarmin' your opponents are fine skills to know, but when you're up against dark wizards, it don't make sense to hold back. Merlin knows your enemy won't show the same restraint."

It was Friday, two days after James and his friends had snuck out to see the Shrieking Shack, and they were once more in Defense Against the Dark Arts. As usual, Lynx began without preamble, ignoring the fact that several students were still filing in.

"That's why," said Lynx, hobbling forward to glare at them all over his thick, round spectacles, "today you lot are learnin' your first lethal spell."

A murmur ran through the room. Peter and Remus both fidgeted beside James, and when he snuck a glance to his right, James saw that even Sirius looked mildly uncomfortable. James himself couldn't help but frown as he watched Lynx warily. Lily Evans' hand rose tentatively into the air.

Lynx scowled at her. "What is it?"

"Please, sir," she said. "Are— Are you sure we're allowed to learn something like that? Isn't it illegal?"

"I'm not teachin' you _the_ Killing Curse." Lynx snorted and muttered, "Don't see why I shouldn't, though." He shook himself and continued in a carrying voice. "The Reductor Curse don't have to be fatal, but it can be if you mean it— Or if you get careless. I don't wanna see any of you lot flappin' your wands about today. You aim at the targets or you keep it at your sides. I don't wanna have to clean up blood after class."

Every one of the students nodded solemnly at this, and Lynx gave a leering smile.

"Excellent. Now." He conjured a ring of wooden dummies around the room and targeted the one nearest him. "_Reducto!_"

At once, the dummy crumbled into a pile of sawdust.

The students gasped and whispered excitedly, and Lynx directed them to form a circle facing outward, with Lynx himself at the center to observe. He pulled a small vial out of his pocket and rolled it between his fingers as the students took their places. James craned his neck to get a glimpse of what pickled body part Lynx had produced this time, but the stooped old wizard grumbled for him to face his dummy. A moment later, they began to fire off Reductor Curses toward the wooden dummies, with little effect. The spell, like so many of those Lynx had chosen to teach them, was beyond their reach. In fact, James wondered if _Reducto_ was another fourth year spell; it certainly seemed it, for nothing else had been quite as difficult as the Shield Charm from the first week of classes.

By the end of the hour, no one had managed more than a small chip in their dummy. Lynx warned them all that they would only have one more day to work on it in class, and that he would reinstate the evening training sessions if he had to.

And so, after lunch, the second years launched into another weekend of frustrated practice. Most of them took a break on Saturday to watch the Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff match; even Lily gave into her friends and trudged down to the pitch. Remus, however, would not be moved (not that James and Sirius lingered in the common room long, when all the good seats were soon to be taken). He alone hung back to work more on his Reductor Curse in the common room. James, Sirius, and Peter found him there after the match, practicing on a dummy like those Lynx had produced.

"_Reducto!_" Remus said, voice raw and rasping. James wondered if he'd been practicing all day. It had obviously paid off – the dummy split into a dozen uneven chunks that tumbled to the floor and rolled away, under couches and tables. Remus groaned and stooped to retrieved them.

"Alright, Remus?" James asked, picking up a hunk of wood that had rolled into the corner by the door.

Remus gave a weary smile. "Is the match over already?"

"Yeah," said Sirius. "It's almost time for dinner."

Nodding absently, Remus fished out the last piece from under a lopsided red couch and tossed it onto the pile with the others. James placed the piece in his hand beside the rest. "Thanks," said Remus. "_Reparo._"

The dummy fitted itself back together, and Remus stepped back, raising his wand. "_Reducto!_"

"Don't you wanna take a break, Remus?" Peter asked as he chased after a foot that had spun away from the rest of the dummy. "How long've you been at it?"

Remus shrugged. "Since you left. But I haven't got time for a break. I've got to get this down – and I still have that essay for Potions for Monday, and McGonagall's assignment for Tuesday, and— Hey!"

James and Sirius had each grabbed one of Remus' arms and now pulled him toward the portrait hole.

"Let go!" Remus protested.

"Not a chance," said James.

"It's time for dinner," said Sirius.

Peter, who had scampered ahead to push open the Fat Lady's portrait, grinned at them and tossed the foot back toward the other pieces. "Just go with it, Remus."

Ignoring Peter's advice, Remus twisted and shot a longing look over his shoulder at the foot and the rest of the dummy. "After dinner, everyone will come back up here, and I won't have any room to practice."

"Then we'll show you our special practice room," said James, rolling his eyes.

Remus' eyes went wide. "You have your own practice room?" James wondered whether the unspoken _And you didn't tell me? _was just his imagination.

With a furtive glance around, Sirius nodded. "Prewetts showed us last year. And we'll show you if you come down and eat dinner with us."

"How big is it?"

"Almost as big as the Defense classroom," said James.

"And private?"

"As private as you can get," said Sirius.

Remus chewed his lip, his resolve wavering. "And quiet?"

Peter grinned impishly and jerked his head toward James and Sirius. "Not with these two around."

James stuck his tongue out at Peter before turning back to Remus. "So whaddaya say? We'll even get you some practice dummies."

Although Remus tried to look reluctant, James could see that he'd won his friend over. Laughing, James dragged on Remus' arm and took off down the stairs toward the Great Hall, friends in tow.

All through the meal, Remus shot impatient glances toward the door. But when the other three took heaping servings of potatoes and chicken and whatever else caught their eye, Remus sighed and loaded his own plate with generous servings of the same dishes. Still, Remus was the first to finish his meal, after which he began to pester the others to eat faster.

"Alright, alright!" said James with a laugh after a few minutes. "I think we'd better get going before Remus wets himself."

Remus scowled, but as the other three were already climbing to their feet, he didn't protest. Instead, he turned and hurried from the Great Hall. James caught up with him in the Entrance Hall and led the way up the stairs to the fifth floor and the deserted classroom.

Peter closed the classroom door behind them as James moved a few desks around to clear a space near the far wall.

"Watch this," he said with a grin. "_Skippyjon_."

"_Skippyjon_?" Remus asked dubiously.

Sirius shrugged. "Blame the Prewetts. Now look."

He pointed to the floor, upon witch a square outline had appeared. James tapped it with his wand, and the trap door swung upward, revealing a dark space below. As James dropped through the hole, a ring of candles in the secret room flared to life, filling the open, circular space with a warm orange glow. Several dozen pillows lay scattered around the room, many of them scorched and torn from previous practice sessions.

Remus slithered through the hole, followed by Sirius and Peter, and stared around.

"How long have you known about this?"

"A year or so," said James. "We mostly use it for planning pranks, but I guess it works for studying, too." He paused. "Right, the dummies. C'mon, Sirius."

They scrambled up the ladder into the deserted classroom, closing the trapdoor behind them. Checking to make sure the coast was clear, they stole out into the corridor and made a beeline for the Defense classroom, where they knew Lynx had left the dummies out after class the day before. All they had to do was sneak in, grab a few dummies, and make it back to the secret room where Remus and Peter were waiting.

Unfortunately, it wouldn't be so easy.

-.-.-

Twenty minutes later, gasping for breath and covered in enough ink to drown a kneazle, James and Sirius finally levitated a pair of practice dummies through the trap door in the fifth floor classroom. Remus and Peter took one look at them and dissolved into fits of laughter.

"I'm glad you're enjoying this," James grumbled, trying (and failing) to wipe the ink from his spectacles.

"What happened?" Peter gasped between bouts of hysterics. "You look like you lost a fight with a flock of angry quills!"

James and Sirius exchanged irked glances and said, "Peeves."

Remus' and Peter's laughter redoubled as James eyed himself and Sirius. He had to admit that he would have laughed to find a pair of Slytherins covered in ink, but Peeves had chased them across five floors before they managed to shake him off. Trickles of ink ran down both boys' faces and necks from the inkwells the poltergeist had emptied on their heads; great dark splotches marked their robes; and their hands were entirely black from shielding their faces from the onslaught. Sirius had rubbed his eye at some point, leaving behind a bluish-black smudge that made it look as though he'd been punched.

Shaking off his foul mood, James grinned. "Mind cleaning us up, Remus, or shall we give you both a great big hug first?"

Sirius immediately spread his inky arms wide and stepped forward. Peter clutched his stomach and collapsed onto the mound of pillows, roaring with laughter. Remus, in contrast, managed to swallow his mirth long enough to gasp, "_Scourgify_!" and siphon the ink from his friends' robes, skin, and hair.

Soon enough, Remus set to practicing on one dummy, while James, Sirius, and Peter took turns with the other. It took the rest of Saturday evening and a few hours on Sunday before Remus managed to break his dummy into so many pieces that he couldn't put it back together with a simple _Reparo_. Granted, it wasn't the dramatic disintegration Lynx had demonstrated in class, but it was more than the others had yet managed, and Peter, who'd only managed to pop off a few limbs so far, pointed out that he would probably manage in the next lesson anyway.

Sure enough, halfway through class, Remus' dummy became a heap of sawdust, and Lynx let Remus go early as a reward. No one else managed quite so impressive a showing, but several – James and Sirius included – did well enough that Lynx excused them from the extra evening lessons.

"Don't worry, Pete," said James as they trudged back to Gryffindor Tower after class. "You've almost got it. We'll help you out, and when you turn up tonight, you'll show him!"

"You'll be out of there in five minutes!" Sirius agreed.

Peter shook his head. "No way. I'll be going to Lynx's office all week!" He sighed. "_Again_."

"Then get Remus to help you," Sirius suggested. "He's a genius at this kind of stuff."

James quirked an eyebrow. "_This_ kind of stuff? And I suppose he's only _brilliant_ at everything else?"

"Exactly! Arpeggio," Sirius added as they reached the Fat Lady.

The three of them thundered up the stairs to the dormitory, laughing all the way and grumbling about Lynx and his ridiculous expectations. But all thoughts of Defense lessons flew from their minds when they opened the dormitory door to find Remus sitting on his trunk, face drawn, staring at his hands.

"Remus?" said Peter.

Jumping at the sound of his name, Remus turned and fixed them with a horribly fake smile. "Hey."

"What happened?" Sirius asked at once. But James feared he already knew. Sure enough—

"It's my mum."

Remus didn't have to say anything more than that. James sat down beside him on the trunk and raised a hand to clasp his shoulder.

"Blimey, Remus," James said, wishing he could find something better to say. "I'm sorry."

"How come she's always getting sick like this?" Sirius grumbled, and James felt Remus tense beside him. Squeezing Remus' bony shoulder, James twisted to shoot Sirius a glare that told him to stuff it before he made their friend feel any worse. Sirius cringed. "Sorry, mate. It's just not fair. I mean, it's been a _year_, and she's still not better?"

A guarded look entered Remus' eyes as he glanced around at his friends. "I— W-we thought she was getting better this summer, but then I… got sick, and she, er, didn't have time to rest. I mean, with all the extra shifts she's been picking up at work—"

"At _work_?" James repeated, shocked. What in Merlin's name was Mrs. Lupin doing working, sick as she was?

Remus fidgeted. "Er— yes. We need the money. For… Healers… and such…"

"But why is _she_ working?" Peter asked. "How come your dad can't pick up extra shifts so your mum can rest?"

The discomfort evident on Remus' face intensified until James half expected him to bolt from the room without answering the question. Twisting on the trunk to face Remus head-on, James caught his friend's eye and peered at him questioningly.

At length, Remus wet his lips. "My dad left when I was five." He swallowed audibly. "It's just me and Mum."

After only a moment's hesitation, James reached out to pull Remus into a hug, Sirius and Peter following soon after. Somehow the four of them managed to pile on top of Remus' trunk, a tangled knot of elbows and knees with Remus at the center. He sat rigid for one long moment – long enough for James to think, _No wonder he always goes to visit her_; long enough for Peter to whisper Remus' name; long enough for Sirius to swear softly but emphatically.

Then Remus stood, knocking James to the floor in a flurry of robes and flailing limbs. Remus looked shaken, and he didn't meet his friends' eyes as he grabbed a rucksack from the floor beside the door.

"I should go," he said quickly. "I just… figured I should tell you— about my mum."

And without another word, he turned and dashed out of the room.

-.-.-

"People can be such _arses_ sometimes."

This proverb came from Sirius as he and James stood in the Defense corridor waiting for Peter to finish the evening's _Reducto_ practice with Lynx and the other second years who had failed to perform adequately in class. James couldn't help but notice the hard set to Sirius' face as he spoke, and he knew that brooding thoughts had filled his best friend's mind during the last, silent hour.

"…I agree?" James ventured. "Mind elaborating?"

Sirius shrugged. "Just trying to figure out why Remus' dad would run off on him. How a parent could ever be such a complete bastard to his own son."

James, of course, had no answer for this, so he merely shifted his stance, leaned back against the cool stone wall, and made a vaguely commiserating sound in his throat. Something in Sirius' voice, a raw edge he hadn't heard before, told James that Sirius wasn't only thinking of Mr. Lupin. But he knew better than to ask Sirius about his home life; such conversations only ended in snappish comments and resentful glares.

So they lapsed into silence as faint voices and wooden _cracks_ swelled behind Lynx's closed office door. They'd been at it an hour already, but James and Sirius had hung around, determined to be there when Peter emerged.

Whenever that might be.

James and Sirius had hardly spoken as they waited; James' mind, at least, had been with Remus, alone with his sick mother in some ward at St. Mungo's. He wondered if Remus would sleep tonight, for he usually returned from these visits looking thoroughly exhausted. Did Remus sit up all night, watching his mother sleep, trying to be strong to fill the gap his father had left seven years before?

Remus didn't deserve that.

At half past nine – just thirty minutes before curfew – Peter finally appeared, along with the rest of the students. Catching sight of James and Sirius, he gave a half-hearted wave and trudged over.

"How'd it go?" Sirius asked.

Peter grimaced. "I'm gonna be here all week, I told you."

"Nah." Sirius grinned. "You just need more practice."

"I've been practicing all weekend," Peter moaned. "I don't even want to _think_ about ruddy Reductor Curses anymore."

Clapping Peter on the back, James pulled a corner of his invisibility cloak out of his pocket. Peter's eyes drifted down, and a smile tugged at his lips.

"We were thinking a more… _practical_ approach might be in order." James winked.

"What did you have in mind?"

Sirius smirked. "Oh, you know…"

"A certain – what'd you call it, Sirius? _Most severely haunted house in all Britain_?"

"Which doesn't seem so haunted after all," added Sirius glumly.

For a moment, Peter looked nervous, but then, with a visible effort, he forced a smile. "If it's not haunted, what do you want with it?"

"I'm curious," said Sirius, at the same time that James said, "Nothing _better_ to do around here, is there?"

A pause.

"That alright with you, Peter?" James asked.

"Well…" Peter glanced around the deserted corridor – the last few Hufflepuffs had just disappeared around a distant corner. "Yeah, sure, why not?"

And so, grinning, they crossed as one to the One-Eyed Witch statue. James opened the secret hatch and led the way into the darkness. They joked and roughhoused all the way to Hogsmeade, although the stinging absence of their fourth friend put a bit of a damper on their mood.

Well, on James' and Peter's moods, at least. Sirius seemed rather oblivious, as usual.

"I've got it!"

They had been walking for the better part of an hour by James' estimate – a three-way wrestling match had delayed them near the beginning of their journey – and Sirius' exclamation had broken a ten-minute silence.

"What've you got?" James asked.

"The Lynx Brigade!"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Ah. Another name."

"Not just _another name_, Pete. _The_ name!" Sirius' manic grin slipped slightly when the other two didn't react to this declaration, beyond a delicate lift of James' eyebrow and Peter's soft snort. "Oh, c'mon, it's perfect! We found this passage with one of Lynx's spells, we're about to use another to break into the Shrieking Shack, and Remus is the only student to impress Lynx – _ever_!"

It almost made sense, James thought, given that it was Sirius speaking. Still… "You wanna name us after that nutter?"

This thought seemed not to have occurred to Sirius, and he frowned. "No, I guess not." He sighed. "I just wanna have a name."

Peter patted Sirius on the head, putting on a sympathetic face. "Don't worry, Sirius. We'll find a name."

With a sour grimace, Sirius swatted away Peter's hand. "Get stuffed."

A few minutes later, they finally reached the trap door to Honeydukes' cellar. Up, through the dark shop, and into the alley they went, huddled under the invisibility cloak. Only once they were out in the light of the full moon did James think that Remus might appreciate some chocolate. After all, the last time his mother had fallen ill, Hagrid's chocolate tea had seemed to perk Remus up considerably.

_On the way back_, he promised himself. _We'll get some on the way back_.

For now, they moved on, through streets that were even more deserted than the other times James and his friends had ventured this way. They reached the forest road that led to the Shrieking Shack without incident and jogged up to the iron gates, stripping off the invisibility cloak.

Just as James started up the tree nearest the fence, Peter's voice rang out to stop him.

"How're we gonna get back over? I can't turn a branch into a ladder like Remus can."

"Don't worry," said James at once, grabbing a branch to haul himself up. "I can… I think."

Sirius snickered. "We can always climb the fence. Look— see?" He crossed to the chained gate and grasped the bars.

But just as Sirius began to climb, a scream pierced the silence, high and long and so near it made James' skin crawl. Losing his grip on the branch, he tumbled unceremoniously to the ground where Peter stood, transfixed, staring at the Shrieking Shack, which felt somehow darker tonight, despite the bright moonlight.

The scream faltered, dying in a ragged gasp.

And then the spirit – or whatever it was that dwelt within the Shack – screamed again, louder than before. The sound was something between the keening of a wounded animal, the moaning of wind in Hogwart's highest towers, and the kind of pained sob James had heard only once before, when his mother had heard the news of her sister's death. James had been young at the time, just six or seven years old, but he knew that his Aunt Deborah, an auror, had died too soon.

Despite himself, he had to wonder what kind of agonizing death the spirit of the Shack had suffered. The thought made him shiver.

The screaming continued. Peter and Sirius stumbled back, away from the Shack, away from the scream. But James found himself rooted in place, unable to move, unable to tear his eyes from the structure that housed a soul in pain.

The screams changed.

It was subtle, intangible, almost indefinable, but James knew at once that something was different. The human quality had gone from the sound; it was now wild in its pain, in its fury, a threat as much as a plea. A wave of icy dread washed over him.

No words were spoken, no glances exchanged. As one, three boys turned and ran. They ran without pause, without thought, not even bothering to conceal themselves under the invisibility cloak. They ran, terrified, and the shrieking from the Shack chased them through the streets down into the tunnel, where the earth and distance finally muted the sound.

It echoed in their ears long afterwards, and they ran all the way to Hogwarts, to Gryffindor Tower, where Frank Longbottom and Alexander Thorne slept soundly. It rang in James' head for hours after he buried himself under his blankets. When he finally passed out near dawn, his was a disturbed sleep, and he dreamt of shadowy specters crying to the moon.

* * *

**A/N: "People can be such _arses_ sometimes." Find out what thoughts led Sirius to this declaration in chapter six of _Padfoot's Story_: "On Fathers."**


	13. Worst Party in the History of Hogwarts

**Chapter 13: The Worst Party in the History of Hogwarts**

It was only upon waking the morning after the incident at the Shrieking Shack that James realized he hadn't bought Remus chocolate like he'd intended to. Perhaps in the grand scheme of things, a small gift of chocolate didn't really matter, but James felt a twinge of guilt that a moment of fear had so blinded him. He was supposed to be a Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake!

Fortunately, he discovered a few chocolate frogs and a bit of fudge left over from his mother's last care package. Sirius and Peter, too, added some sweets of their own once James explained what he was doing, and they left the bundle on Remus' bed with a message scrawled on a crumpled bit of parchment telling him not to worry about coming to class, that they would take notes for him, and that he should just relax and eat some chocolate.

They checked at lunch to see if Remus had returned, and came straight back after History of Magic that afternoon, but Remus didn't show. James, Sirius, and Peter hung around the common room all evening, aside from the few hours that Peter spent with Lynx working on the Reductor Curse and that James and Sirius spent at Quidditch practice, but when they turned in for the night, Remus' bed was still empty, save the note and the pile of sweets.

Then, finally, after Charms the following day, they trudged up to their dormitory before lunch – just in case – and found Remus sitting on the bed, clutching the note James had written, nibbling on a chocolate frog. He looked up when they entered and gave a small, tired smile that nevertheless brightened his pale face.

"Thanks," Remus said simply.

James smiled back and dug out the notes he'd been responsible for – Herbology and the beginning of History of Magic. Peter added Potions and the second stretch of History, and Sirius rounded it out with the last of History and Charms besides.

"Here's your notes," James said, setting the stack on Remus' desk. "We'll go through them with you, if you want."

"But first," said Sirius, before Remus could answer. "How about some lunch?"

No one argued, and they headed down to the Great Hall, where Remus was greeted with a string of sympathetic platitudes and slaps on the back, several of which were entirely too enthusiastic and made Remus wince. James and Sirius warded off the well-wishers as Peter steered Remus to an empty stretch of table. With Peter on one side of him, James on the other, and Sirius across the way, Remus was effectively insulated from the rest of the school while they ate.

James could see the strain Remus tried to hide. Perhaps it had always been there after Mrs. Lupin's relapses, and James just hadn't thought to look for it, but now James could see the fatigue in his eyes, the rigid set to his jaw, the stiffness in his gait as they returned to Gryffindor Tower after lunch to catch Remus up on what he'd missed.

It was a good thing the holidays were coming up, James decided. A few weeks at home would surely help to ease Remus' burden.

-.-.-

The last week of November flew by in a whirl of white as the first winter storm rolled in over the mountains. Soon enough, Professor McGonagall came around to collect a list of those who wished to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. Remus, of course, planned to go home, and by an unspoken agreement, his three friends accepted his decision without protest, for although they would have liked two weeks for the four of them to spend together, they all knew he was going home for his mother.

James, Sirius, and Peter, however, all signed their names on McGonagall's list. Louise Holoway was also staying, purportedly to fulfill her duties as Head Girl, and the only other Gryffindors staying were Bertha Jorkins and a first year named Michael Johnson.

"Gonna be a quiet holiday," James remarked as he passed the list back to McGonagall.

Sirius merely grinned. "Not if we can help it."

-.-.-

The invitations arrived the next day at breakfast.

James was just reaching for his pumpkin juice when a familiar white envelope, marked with his name in violet ink, appeared under his fingers. Even as James recognized it, he heard Sirius groan dramatically.

"_Another_ one?"

Grimacing, James picked up the envelope, turned it over, and broke the emerald green _H.S._ seal. Inside was the same small square of parchment bordered with the same silver fleur-de-lis, the same slanted handwriting detailing another meeting of the horrendously boring Slug Club.

_Mr. J. A. Potter—_

_It is with greatest pleasure that I request your company on_

_Friday, December the 15__th__, 1972_

_for an evening of merriment and Christmas cheer for yourself  
and one guest. Please come to my office at 8:00 pm on the  
aforementioned date. I look forward to seeing you there._

_Cordially,_

_ —H. E. F. Slughorn_

"That's the last day of term!" Sirius moaned, flinging his invitation down on his eggs. "Why's he got to ruin our last night with Remus? Let's skive off, James, _please_?"

A flush crept into Remus' face. "I'll only be gone for two weeks."

"What does that matter?"

"Well… I don't mind if you have to go to that. What would we do anyway? Play games, get into trouble? Peter and I will manage just fine."

"But I don't _want _to go!"

Chuckling, James shook his head. "Don't worry, Sirius. Didn't you see?"

Sirius eyed James warily. "See what?"

"Look at your invitation—" James waited for Sirius to snatch his egg-covered parchment from the table. "Under the date, see? 'An evening of merriment and Christmas cheer for—' _who_?"

"I claim Remus!" Sirius shouted at once, making the quiet boy jump and several other students turn to stare at the four friends.

James only grinned and called, just as enthusiastically, "I've got Peter!"

Remus and Peter exchanged a nervous look. "What are you dragging us into now?" Remus asked wearily.

"It says 'and one guest.'" Sirius proudly helding out his invitation to Remus, who was already rubbing his forehead as though he had a headache.

"Sirius, 'guest' means _date_. As in a girl."

Sirius' grin didn't falter. "But it doesn't _say_ date, does it? It says _guest_."

"And that means me?" Remus guessed, sounding resigned.

"Yep!"

James laughed and winked at Peter. "Let's just hope there's no mistletoe."

At this, Remus flushed crimson and Peter became suddenly fascinated with the contents of his goblet. James and Sirius just laughed and tossed their invitations carelessly into their school bags. As far as James was concerned, Slughorn's Christmas party would get on just fine without him, and he would much rather pass the evening in the dormitory, playing gobstones or exploding snap, or else roaming the castle – maybe making a last-minute Hogsmeade run before Remus left for home.

But if he had to go to the Slug Club event, he was determined that it would at least be with all three of his friends.

-.-.-

When December arrived, Sirius remembered the gift James had promised him a month earlier. With renewed rabidity, he hounded James incessantly for some indication of what he would be getting and when he could expect it.

"You get it on Christmas," said James after several days of this. "I thought we'd established that already. And I'm not telling you what it is. You ought to have worked it out by now, anyway."

Sirius scowled at him and fell silent— sadly, not for long.

"How do I know you weren't tricking me? That frogspawn soap might have been just to throw me off!"

"You're right," said James solemnly, though he couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lips. "It was all a big distraction so you'd never even notice the real hint."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oh, come off it. We both know you're no Slytherin."

James' grin broadened. He might not have been a Slytherin, but he _was_ a prankster, and Sirius seemed to be forgetting that fact, despite drawing up a list of all the joke items James might have gotten him. He had absolutely no idea what James really had planned, and that made it all the more entertaining.

"A whole trunk full of prank stuff," Sirius suggested, pacing the dormitory with the bottle of frogspawn soap in hand. He'd thrown the wrappings away sometime in the last month – a shame, really, for if he'd kept them, he might have picked up on the clue James had left him. "A lake full of frogspawn soap! An extra special Christmas prank on the Slytherins!"

Laughing, James turned around and left Sirius to his musings. He'd find out soon enough.

In the mean time, James had to make sure he would be able to smuggle in both his friends' gifts. It wouldn't do to have Luftwing swoop down on him at breakfast one morning with incriminating packages clutched in his talons, and if James had to sneak off to the Owlery between classes, Sirius would almost certainly intercept him on the way back to the dormitory.

James' father had been the one to suggest the house elves. Evidently during his Hogwarts days, Mr. Potter had had reason to smuggle in items of his own (to surprise James' mother, he told James, although James had to wonder if there hadn't been some banned joke items mixed in). Regardless, Mr. Potter had found the house elves more than willing to accept secret packages for students and sneak them into the dormitories.

And so, one evening when James and his friends wandered down to the kitchens for a late-night snack, James slipped a note to Trimsy, a house elf he'd met the previous year. The droopy-eared, pointy-nosed elf read the note quickly and gave James a tiny salute before scurrying off to find the elf in charge of cleaning the second year Gryffindor boys' dormitory. The next morning when Luftwing delivered Mrs. Potter's weekly care package, James gave him a short note to deliver to his parents, which directed them to send Sirius' and Peter's presents to Trimsy, and that Trimsy would make sure they arrived under James' bed early Christmas morning. Remus' gift would go to the Lupins' house directly.

All that remained was to wait—

"The password to the Slytherin common room so we can hex Snivellus while he sleeps!"

—and to try not to strangle Sirius before Christmas morning arrived.

-.-.-

"I still say we shouldn't go."

"No, _Peter and I_ shouldn't go. You and James were actually _invited_."

"And we aren't going without you two," James said matter-of-factly. He and his friends stood in the dormitory a quarter hour before the Slug Club party was due to start, and neither Sirius nor Remus had yet made a move toward the door. Instead, they stood at the foot of Remus' bed, trading glares. "Either all of us go, or none of us do."

Remus turned his glare from Sirius to James. "You can't just _not_ go, James. A professor invited you! _Personally!_"

"We know," Sirius grumbled. "Believe me, we _know_."

"So the four of us, then?" James asked with a grin.

Remus looked ready to protest, but Peter intervened. "You know they aren't going to give in. We should just go and enjoy the food."

Laughing, Sirius slung an arm around Remus' shoulders. "You can bring a book to read if you really think you'll be that bored."

With a scowl, Remus tossed Sirius' arm off, but he snatched up a book from his desk before stalking toward the door. "Let's just get this over with."

"Gladly," said James, tucking his invisibility cloak into his pocket in case they had to make a quick get-away.

James almost had to laugh as they set out. Here they were, trudging down to the dungeons as they had less than three months ago, except this time, Peter was with them and it was Remus who looked like he was walking to his death.

Marlene McKinnon, blonde hair tied up, knobbly-kneed and unkempt as ever, with skinned elbows and a smudge on her chin, was waiting for them in the Entrance Hall. A boy with wavy, platinum blond hair and a distant expression in his eyes, stood with her, tracing a pattern on the bricks of the wall. Her guest, James presumed.

"No turning back once you go down," James called from the top of the stairs, echoing the words she had said to them in September.

Marlene turned, a retort on her lips, but it died when she saw the four people coming down toward her. She laughed. "You do realize that 'guest' means—"

"They are aware, yes," said Remus, scowling at James and Sirius. "They don't _care_, but they are aware."

Sirius lifted one shoulder and pranced down the stairs. "The Slug's gotta learn to be more clear on things like this."

"The _Slug_?" Remus looked horrified.

"Don't you know? Everyone calls him that," Marlene's friend said airily, still tracing winding paths in the stone.

Marlene snorted. "Just as long as he's not listening."

James jumped the last few steps and gestured over his shoulders to his friends. "Remus and Peter," he said. "Our friends."

Amusement shone in Marlene's eyes. "The ones that got away. How rebellious of you."

"The… ones that got away?" Peter asked.

"Like me," said Marlene's friend with a smile. "I wonder what Horace will say."

James quirked an eyebrow, and Marlene giggled.

"Sorry, I should introduce you. Xenophilius Lovegood. We call him Xeno. Got himself kicked out of the Slug Club two years ago."

"What for?" asked Sirius eagerly.

At the same time, James asked, "What'd you want to come back for?"

Xenophilius hardly blinked as he turned first to Sirius and said, "I left my first gathering early to follow a Blibbering Humdinger. I don't think Horace liked that I didn't invite him along." And then, to James— "I hear Horace always hangs mistletoe at his Christmas parties. I'm hoping to find some Nargles tonight."

James blinked, wondering what Blibbering Humdingers and Nargles were, and whether all he had to do to escape the Slug Club was leave early.

"Don't even think about it, James," said Remus warningly.

James gave his best innocent smile and strolled to the stairs leading down to the dungeons. "I haven't a clue what you're talking about, Remus."

They headed down in a pack, Xenophilius cheerfully explaining to Remus just what a Nargle was – what they looked like, where they lived, what they did… Remus gave him a benign smile, but James could see the skepticism in his eyes. Marlene, meanwhile, was busy telling Sirius and Peter how hard Gilderoy Lockhart had tried to get her to invite him ("He even tried to flirt with me, and _Merlin, _was it funny!") But James tuned out both Xenophilius and Marlene; he was too busy planning how best to get kicked out once and for all. He wasn't so lucky that just bringing Peter and Remus would do the trick.

As in September, they appeared to be the last to arrive. Dancing firelight and a murmur of voices drifted out into the corridor through the open door, and when James gathered his courage to step inside, he saw a room bustling with new and familiar faces. Bunches of mistletoe and silver garlands decorated the room; a fir tree had been set up in the corner and enchanted with fairy lights – small, yellow glowing spheres that danced in and out among the branches and swayed in time to the music from the wireless in the corner. Candles and wreaths adorned the tables, and cakes and fruit salad had been set out near the bowl of pumpkin juice.

"James! Sirius!"

James cringed at Slughorn's booming voice. Every eye turned to the door as the portly professor gave both boys' hands a hearty shake.

"And Marlene, too!"

"Hello, Professor."

Slughorn's eyes traveled passed the three Slug Club members to their guests. A small furrow appeared between his brows.

Marlene smiled angelically. "You remember Xeno, don't you Professor?"

"Y-yes. Yes, of course." Slughorn plastered a smile on his face. "Hello, Mr. Lovegood."

"Hello, Horace. Have you seen any Blibbering Humdingers in the dungeons recently?"

The smile faltered. "No, Mr. Lovegood. I can't say as I have."

With a shrug, Xenophilius turned and wandered away, toward a shady corner, where April Rohrs and Leo Smith, the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Quidditch captains, stood entwined beneath a sprig of mistletoe.

"And Mr. Lupin. Mr. Pettigrew," Slughorn continued, diplomatic smile back in place.

Both Remus and Peter looked suddenly nervous, and James could practically hear their thoughts: _We shouldn't have come. We don't belong here._

"That's them," said Sirius, eyes glinting mischievously. "We figured we should bring guests who really deserve to be here."

There were gasps. Slughorn's face acquired a stony set.

Behind James, Remus edged toward the door. "I should just go," he murmured. James seized him by the wrist before he could disappear. He shot James a pleading look, but James merely flashed a grin and led him confidently into the room as Sirius did the same for Peter.

"What are you _doing_?"

The voice drew the attention away from the four second years, and James turned to see Xenophilius up on a chair, tottering over April and Leo, who were eyeing him apprehensively as he reached up toward the mistletoe. A garland had fallen on top of the couple, and April swatted it away irritably.

"_Xeno_!"

"I'm just checking for Nargles," said Xenophilius, plucking the mistletoe from the string on which it hung. "You're welcome."

James laughed as the couple glared up at Xenophilius, but Remus wasn't so entertained. He slipped out of James' grasp and found the most out-of-the-way armchair he could, where he curled up and buried his nose in _A Survey of Modern Muggle Life_. Peter made a beeline for the refreshment table.

James and Sirius were just about to follow Peter when Slughorn appeared, clapping them both on the shoulder, and steered them toward the milling crowd and conversations about Ministry policies, international news, and developments in experimental magic. Marlene shot them a half-commiserating, half-taunting smile and hurried off to join Peter.

-.-.-

An hour passed before Slughorn became engrossed in a debate over a bit of legislation concerning wand regulation, allowing James and Sirius to slip away and look for their friends. Remus and Peter sat in the same dark corner, Peter still shoveling food into his mouth, Remus balancing his open book on his lap. But to James' surprise, Remus wasn't reading. Instead, he was speaking with someone James couldn't quite see through the crowd.

Curious, James moved closer.

"Really, Remus, I mean it! You're the best in our year!"

Remus flushed crimson, mumbling a reply.

"You _are_! Don't you remember your Reductor Curse? I do! Even Professor— I mean, even _Lynx_ thinks you're something special."

James and Sirius exchanged mischievous grins and stepped forward, past the last line of Slug Club members.

"Well, would you look at that?" said Sirius lazily, draping himself over the back of Remus' chair.

James flopped down beside Peter, smirking. "Evans is right— _again_. Who _ever_ would have thought?"

Suddenly, Remus looked immensely interested in _A Survey of Modern Muggle Life_. Across the way, Lily Evans' lips twitched downward as she caught sight of the two newcomers. James noticed distantly that Marlene had drifted off to talk with Justine Munslow, a Hufflepuff in her year, and Justine's guest. Unfortunately, Severus Snape was headed toward Lily, James, and the others with two goblets of pumpkin juice.

"Here," Snape said shortly, handing Lily one of the goblets as he glowered at James and Sirius. "You aren't _actually_ talking to these berks, are you, Lily?"

"Hardly." Lily tossed her hair over her shoulder, still glaring at James and Sirius. When she turned to Remus, however, she was as friendly as could be. "I was just telling Remus that he really ought to be here – as a full member, I mean. I thought I might speak with Professor Slughorn about it later."

From the curl of Snape's lips, he didn't share Lily's opinion on the matter.

Remus blushed. "You really don't have to do that."

"Actually," said James, "I think it's a brilliant idea!"

Lily looked taken aback by this declaration. "You _do_?"

"Absolutely." James nodded. "You realize Sirius and I were the first to tell Slughorn he ought to have invited Peter and Remus to begin with? These awful parties might actually be bearable with them here."

Making a derisive sound, Lily crossed her arms.

"Come on, Lily," Snape hissed. "Let's find some better company."

"What, so now we aren't good company?" Sirius asked in mock offense.

Snape scoffed. "You aren't good _anything,_ Black."

James glared at Sirius to keep him from leaping at the greasy-haired boy. Then, as though the evening hadn't been miserable enough already, Lucius Malfoy appeared from the crowed with Narcissa Black on his arm.

"It's a disgrace, really," Malfoy said in his irksome, drawling voice, joining the circle of second years without waiting for an invitation. "An absolute disgrace. Professor Slughorn shouldn't have to play host to filth like this."

Sirius' face went deathly still, and he turned toward the Slytherins with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "And what _filth_ is that, Malfoy? _You?_"

"No, I was thinking of your pathetic tagalongs." Malfoy's cold gray gaze slid toward Remus and Peter.

"They aren't tagalongs," James snapped, shooting to his feet.

Seizing upon this argument, Snape sneered. "You're right, Potter. That's giving them too much credit. I can't fathom why you keep them around— a snooty little bookworm with no friends and a crybaby who might as well be a Squib."

The hurt that flashed across his friends' faces shattered the last of James' restraint. Even as Lily opened her mouth to say something, James drew his wand, vaguely noticing Sirius do the same.

"_That's not true!_" James roared, leveling his wand at Snape's nose. "Peter's a hundred times the wizard you'll ever be, _Snivellus_, and there isn't a single person in this school I'd rather have as a friend than Remus."

"Hn." Malfoy lifted a finger to push away Sirius' wand, which was hovering over his heart. "So loyal to your _pets_, Potter."

"PETS?"

Staring fixedly at the floor, Remus slipped out of his chair, hugging his book to his chest, and inched toward the door.

"Remus…" Lily whispered, reaching out toward him. He shrank back, shaking his head.

"C'mon, Peter," Remus murmured, not looking at anyone. "We don't belong here."

Snape's eyes gleamed. "I couldn't agree more, Lupin."

James took a step forward, his wand pressing against Snape's forehead and forcing the other boy to take a step back. "You wretched little snot—!"

"Don't waste your breath, James," Sirius growled. "These pathetic globs of Slytherin grease wouldn't recognize friendship if it bit them on the nose."

James cast a furious glance around the room. Although many of the students had turned to watch the confrontation in the corner, Slughorn was making a study of ignoring it all, and James had a sudden, wild thought that Slughorn had sent Malfoy to chase Remus and Peter away.

"Go on," said Malfoy with a sneer that drew James' attention back to the Slytherins before him. Remus and Peter were still slinking toward the door. "Run along. No one wants you here."

Snape's lip curled. "Sounds like Black."

"Stuff it, Snivellus," James warned.

But the lank-haired, hook-nosed boy grinned maliciously, his black eyes locked on Sirius as he spoke in a crystal clear whisper. "I've hear what Regulus has to say about you, Black, and I think we all know how much happier he'd be if you'd never been born. Who needs a lying, arrogant, no-good blood-traitor brother like _you_?"

For one moment – one endless moment – Sirius' face took on a frightening similarity to a marble statue, so hard and expressionless that it looked inhuman. Then his wand swung away from Malfoy, toward Snape, whose sneer never faltered.

"_Furnunculus!_" Sirius bellowed. Snape yelped and stumbled back, tripping over a tea table, which splintered apart beneath him; Lily screamed.

Malfoy's wand was suddenly in his hand. "_Flipendo!_"

Even as Sirius slammed against the wall with the force of Malfoy's Knockback Jinx, James rounded on Malfoy with a cry of, "_Tarantallegra!_"

With a dismissive swipe of his wand, Malfoy deflected James' spell. It soared across the room, narrowly avoiding several students, who dove out of the way. The jet of light hit Xenophilius Lovegood in the small of the back as he reached up toward a bunch of mistletoe. Xenophilius' legs gave a jerk, toppling the spindly chair on which he stood. He pitched forward and landed atop a couple who had thus far been quite oblivious to the goings-on elsewhere in the room.

The girl let out an ear-piercing shriek and shoved Xenophilius off her; he flailed his arms in a desperate attempt to save his balance, but his hand caught Amos Diggory's elbow, causing the older boy to dump a full goblet of pumpkin juice down his date's front.

James didn't have time to see what happened next, for Sirius and Malfoy had begun to duel in earnest and Snape was back on his feet, face covered in boils like candied cherries as he pointed his wand at Sirius' back.

"_Diffindo!_"

"_Protego!_" James cried at once. The Cutting Charm rebounded off the shield and lopped of several branches from the nearby fir tree. The fairy lights, agitated by the sudden commotion, veered away and careened through the room like tiny, glowing bludgers, catching in girls' hair and upending plates and goblets at every turn. Several students, startled by the flying lights, panicked and fired off Stunners in the direction of their perceived attackers.

By this time, Slughorn could no longer feign ignorance of what was going on, but as he opened his mouth to call for order, one of the fairy lights decided to try to fly down his throat, and he spluttered into silence.

The furor in the room rose to deafening levels. James only dimly heard Snape shout another spell; he dodged, and the refreshment table exploded, flinging bits of cake and fruit into the chaos.

"_Impedimenta!_" James roared.

Snape stumbled, but quickly regained his footing and leered at James as he executed a deft twist of his wand. "_Visceropellere,_" he hissed.

James had never heard this incantation before, but he knew from the chill that accompanied the flash of white light that it must be dark magic, and he dropped into a crouch even as he yelled, "_Protego!_" The shimmering blue shield sprang up just in time to catch Snape's curse, at which it shuddered and soon crumbled. James scowled at Snape. "Where'd you learn that one, Snivellus? Your old man best mates with Voldemort or something?"

Face twisting into an ugly snarl, Snape thrust his wand forward. "_Reducto!_" A table behind James crumbled into splinters.

"Nice aim," James taunted. "If you washed your hair once in a while, it might not hang in your eyes like that." He quickly ducked out of the way of another curse and reciprocated with a shout of, "_Locomotor Mortis!_" which Snape dodged easily. But James followed up with a Stunner, which came too fast for Snape to block. The Slytherin fell limp, and with a cry of outrage, Lily dashed to his side.

Grinning, James turned to survey the room. Spells and food thickened the air— Marlene had taken refuge behind the remains of the refreshment table and, shrieking with delight, lobbed food into the fray at random. A handful of fruitcake splattered across the back of Slughorn's head as he tried to separate Timothy Nott, the Slytherin Chaser, and Eliot Donovan, the Gryffindor prefect, who had discarded their wands to wrestle in muggle fashion.

Sirius staggered against James, clutching his shoulder, and James frantically threw up a shield charm as Malfoy fired a rapid barrage of spells. Narcissa, James noted, was standing off to the side, watching disinterestedly as her boyfriend tried to kill her cousin.

The door swung open and a head of golden hair leaned in. "Oh, my! I didn't know this was a _dueling_ club!"

Normally, the arrival of Gilderoy Lockhart would have made James want to tear his hair out in frustration, but at the moment, all he could do was laugh— particularly when Slughorn whirled away from comforting Justine Munslow, whose left ear had swollen to the size of a Fanged Frisbee. The normally jovial professor looked to be moments away from a mental breakdown, and Gilderoy's sudden, unwelcome presence was doing nothing for the wizard's emotional state.

"Mr. Lockhart!" he bellowed, though the din all but drowned out his voice. "Mr. Lockhart, this is a private gathering, and I'm afraid— No, Scott—" Slughorn glanced aside as Scott Adrian leaped up on the couch, stretching up toward a fairy light hiding in a garland. "Don't—!" Someone hurled a jar of something green and viscous past Slughorn's head, and he spun in a full circle, shouting, "Be _careful _with that!"

And as Slughorn turned away to avert some other disaster, Gilderoy sauntered into the thick of things, drew his wand, and fired a spell at Malfoy's exposed back. The Slytherin spun, seething, and sent Gilderoy sprawling with a Knockback Jinx.

Gilderoy bounded up at once and rejoined the duel with a spasm that set the garlands and mistletoe writhing, weaving through the crowd like snakes and sweeping several people off their feet. A loose end wrapped around Narcissa's wrist and flung her, screaming, into the bowl of pumpkin juice.

"Quiet, everyone," Xenophilius urged, chasing a garland through the press of bodies. "The Nargles are quite unhappy now. Please, everyone, be quiet. You're only making it worse."

Snickering, James caught Sirius' eye and nodded toward the door. "Best be off now, you think?"

"S'pose so," said Sirius. "Where's Remus and Peter?"

"There— behind the chair."

James and Sirius hurried over, and Remus greeted them with a moan of mingled exasperation and despair. "Can we _please_ go now?"

"Absolutely," said Sirius.

Just then, Peeves the Poltergeist drifted in through the far wall, caught sight of the chaos, and burst into laughter. He caught up a goblet of pumpkin juice which, miraculously, had not yet spilled, took a long swig, and spewed the juice out at a cluster of fairy lights that had retreated to a quiet corner up by the ceiling. The lights pulsed red and went into a rage, smashing through furniture and bowling students over.

"Quick," James hissed, pulling the invisibility cloak from his pocket. He glanced around the room to ensure no one was paying attention. They were all too busy dodging rogue fairy lights and wild garlands and Peeves' gleeful mischief to notice the four boys huddled in the corner. "Before Peeves sees us."

"Or Slughorn," Sirius added, glancing toward the frantic professor.

"Or Malfoy," said Peter.

"We get the point." Remus grabbed a corner of the cloak and ducked underneath. "Let's just _go_."

There were no complaints from the others, and once they had all vanished under the cloak, they crept around the edge of the room, through the door Gilderoy had left open, and out into the blissfully empty corridor. Just to be sure their escape would be clean, they kept the cloak over their heads until they reached the Entrance Hall at the top of the first flight of stairs.

"That was _awful_," Remus said fervently when they emerged from beneath the cloak. He sank down on the steps, scrubbing at his face. "I think I see why you hate going. That must have been the worst party I've ever been to."

Sirius, in contrast, was grinning broadly. "Are you joking?" he asked. "That was _brilliant!_"

The other three shot him incredulous looks, but he merely laughed and flopped down beside Remus. "Best party Hogwarts has ever seen, I'd wager," Sirius said solemnly. "I got to hit Malfoy with a Bat-Bogey Hex!"

Remus rolled his eyes and turned to James. "I swear I'll never force you to go to another event like that."

"Thanks," said James. "But after tonight, I doubt old Sluggy'll ever ask us back."

"Well, tonight wasn't a total waste." Sirius paused to let the others scoff at this and mutter insinuations about his sanity. When they had fallen silent once more, Sirius puffed out his chest importantly. "I think I've got it."

Peter frowned and, before James could warn him otherwise, asked, "Got what?"

"A name!"

"Have you?" James asked, trying not to snigger. "What is it— no, let me guess. Slughorn's Most Hated."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "No, James, not Slughorn's Most Hated." He smirked. "Teacher's Pests."

Remus was already scowling. "No."

"But _Remus!_"

"No."

"C'mon!"

"I am _not_ letting you call me a—" Remus made a face— "pest."

"But it's _perfect!_"

"For _you_, maybe."

James chuckled, but the sound of footsteps on the dungeon stairs put an end to the argument. A moment later, Marlene and Xenophilius, both covered in bits of food, appeared in the Entrance Hall.

"Still chaos down there?" James asked.

Marlene licked a bit of frosting from her finger. "Worse. Peeves managed to set fire to the tree and when Gilderoy tried to put it out, he made it rain red dye. I'm not sure how much of it is from the dye and how much is from all the hollering he's doing, but the Slug's turned positively crimson!"

They all had a good laugh at that, and then Marlene grinned.

"And you lot missed the best part."

"Oh?" James asked. "Do tell."

"Well," said Marlene, glancing over her shoulder as though expecting to see someone coming up the stairs. "Lily _Rennervated_ Snape not two seconds after Peeves showed up, and she _tore into_ him. I never would have guessed that girl had such a set of lungs. Surprised you lot couldn't hear it up here. Called him all sorts of nasty names, told him he was a git for getting into a duel right in front of a teacher, that he had no right to say all those things to you— well, to Remus, mostly—" The boy in question blushed furiously at this— "and that he'd be lucky if he wasn't expelled for using _Reducto_ against another student, when Lynx said it could be lethal."

"Yeah, yeah," James said, waving his hand dismissively. "As if that snake could pull off anything so strong." Normally, Snape's name alone was enough to ruin James' good mood, but the thought that Lily Evans had shouted down her supposed best friend, greasy git that he was, made James far happier than it should have, and he couldn't help the broad grin that crossed his face.

Nevertheless, once Marlene and Xenophilius went on their way up to Ravenclaw Tower, James declared that in light of the horrendous evening at the Slug Club and Remus' looming departure, they ought to have a party of their own. Without giving his friends (mostly Remus) a chance to argue, James turned and led the way down to the kitchens, where the House Elves were delighted to whip up a special batch of chocolate-peppermint trifle for the four boys' private Christmas celebration.

The castle was dark and silent when they finally stumbled back to the common room.

* * *

**A/N: So we're less than 10 reviews away from triple digits, which means it's time for the kiriban! Here's how it's gonna work: I'm going to be writing a oneshot to celebrate, and you, my dear readers, get to help! The 100th reviewer will choose the characters and setting, and as for the rest of you... Anyone who wants to can suggest a word or phrase to be used in my kiriban special. Want to see a swordfight? How about a dancing pineapple? Or maybe you just really like the color purple. Great! All you have to do is review this story or PM me any time before 14 September 2012 with your entry, and it'll show up somewhere in the story. Just keep it rated T and be aware that I can't guarantee that I'll use any character suggestions you may give, unless you're reviewer number 100.  
**


	14. Snow and Secrets

**Chapter 14: Snow and Secrets**

On Christmas morning, James woke to someone shouting unintelligibly and jumping on his bed.

"Gerroff, Sirius," James grunted, pulling his pillow over his head. "'s too early…"

"But it's _Christmas!_"

James grunted.

"You _promised_! I've waited two months, James! Where is it? Where _is_ it?"

Hands seized his shoulders and wrenched him up off the bed. Sirius, James saw through bleary eyes, had not changed out of his pajamas or even bothered to put on a dressing gown and slippers. A quick glance over the other boy's shoulder showed a small mound of presents sitting on Sirius' bed amidst an explosion of shredded wrappings.

"You already opened your presents?" James yawned, fumbling for his glasses. The clock on the bedside table showed that it was half past five. "Blimey, mate," he mumbled. "You're not normal." And he flopped back down on his pillow.

A moment passed. Then…

"_Aguamenti!_"

James yelped as a torrent of water drenched him from head to toe.

"SIRIUS!"

His only answer was a mad cackle and pounding footsteps as Sirius, wisely, retreated. James gained his feet in an instant and snatched up his wand from his bedside table. Two beds over, having been roused by the commotion, Peter yawned and craned his neck to peer at Sirius, who had taken refuge behind him. Grinning, Sirius grabbed Peter's shoulders and positioned him more directly in the path of James' retaliation.

"By the way," said Sirius conversationally, as though his dripping wet best friend weren't glaring daggers at him. "Thanks for the gift, Pete."

"Er… you're welcome." Peter glanced at James and lifted an eyebrow.

Sirius nodded. "Actually, I was thinking James here would make an excellent test subject— if he doesn't give me my present in the next five seconds."

With a snort, James shook his head to clear the dripping hair from his eyes. "Sirius, mate, calm down. Me and Peter still have to open our presents!"

"But—"

"You didn't have to get up early, you know."

Although Sirius looked sullen at this, he only stalked to his bed and flopped down. "Hurry up, then."

James rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up and eat your fudge."

Sirius stuck his tongue out, but obediently picked up the box of homemade fudge James' mother had sent him and tossed a piece in his mouth. James, meanwhile, muttered a drying charm to remove the water from himself and his bed before he pulled on his slippers and dressing gown and sat down.

Turning to the pile of gifts at the foot of his bed, James picked up the first package and began to peel back a corner of the wrapping very carefully, taking far more time than was strictly necessary to reveal the broom servicing kit his father had given him. He exclaimed over it for a while – mostly so he could see Sirius turning red from trying to hold himself back. Then he grabbed the next gift and started on that one just as slowly.

Five seconds later, Sirius moaned dramatically and launched himself at James, snatching at the present in his hands and tearing the wrappings off in haphazard strips. James laughed as his mother's gift – fudge, a new winter cloak, and a comb charmed for use on the most unruly of hair – fell onto the bedspread.

"Nice try, mum," James said, examining the comb. "But it'll take more than this to tame my hair."

"Less talking, more ripping," Sirius barked, shoving the next present into James' hands. "And I'm just telling you now, I got you a Jarvey Box – insult and confuse the Slytherins at the same time, mate, it'll be brilliant! – and Ever-Oozing Sticky Stones from Zonko's. I'll just go ahead and open them for you— No, stop," he added as James reached out for the hastily-wrapped parcel Sirius was holding. "You can look at them later. I want my present sometime before classes start up again."

With a laugh and an affable shrug, James tore into the rest of his presents, with Sirius' help. Fizzing Whizzbees from Peter, a joke book from Remus, a jumper from some great aunt James didn't even remember still being alive, and a homework planner from Slughorn ("Guess we didn't get ourselves booted after all," Sirius said glumly, gesturing to his own planner on the floor) joined the other presents atop James' trunk, and then Sirius bounded over to Peter's bed to check his progress.

"I'm done," Peter assured him, holding up his empty hands as proof.

Sirius whirled back to James, a manic hunger gleaming in his eyes.

"Okay, okay," James said wearily, sliding off his bed and lifting the edge of his comforter to peer at the two packages hidden beneath the bed. "Peter first."

Sirius groaned, but Peter sat up a bit straighter as James pulled out a square package roughly the size of a Quidditch ball case. After handing the gift over to Peter, James placed his hands firmly on Sirius' shoulders to keep him from diving under the bed in search of his own gift. He guided Sirius to Remus' bed - as far as possible from James' own bed - and forced Sirius to sit down.

"Go on, Peter," said James with a smile. "Open it."

Peter did so, gasping as the wrappings fell away to reveal a deluxe potions kit, which contained ingredients and instructions for over a hundred brews, from headache cures to minor sleeping potions to a sludge that apparently turned the drinker's skin purple.

"I figured, since you're so good at Potions," said James as Peter brushed the wrappings aside, "you might like learning some other recipes. It looked like there were some good ones in there."

Peter's mouth hung open for several seconds as he ran his hand almost reverently across the lid. "James," he squeaked. "You - but - How much did this _cost_?"

"Not important."

With a suspicious frown, Peter tore his eyes away from his gift. "James?"

James rolled his eyes and mussed up his hair. "What's the point of being a rich swot if I can't spoil my best friends?"

Peter didn't look convinced. "But... I can't... I only got you Fizzing Whizzbees! I can't take this!"

Chuckling, James slid off the bed. "Right, uh-huh. How about you wait until you see Sirius' gift before you decide to give it back, yeah?"

At this, Sirius sat up a little straighter, his legs bouncing in anticipation as he watched James' progress toward his bed. James had to tell him twice to close his eyes, and even then, he wasn't satisfied that Sirius wouldn't peek. Only once he was facing the other way did James finally pull out what he'd been planning to give his best friend since October.

Peter's eyes widened. James winked and pressed a finger to his lips, beaming.

"Aright, Sirius," he said. "Hold out your hands."

"What're you gonna do?" Sirius asked suspiciously.

James' grin widened. "Just… trust me. And keep your eyes _closed_."

Slowly, Sirius stuck out his hands, apparently expecting James to stick something wet and slimy in his waiting palms. For an instant, James considered doing just that, remembering his rather rude awakening not a quarter hour before. But he decided against this plan almost immediately. He'd been looking forward to this moment for too long to ruin it with a prank— and a lousy one at that.

He placed the item in Sirius' hands.

At once, the other boy's eyes flew open, and he stared at the gleaming Cleansweep 6 in his hands. Polished hickory handle, iron stirrups, sleek tail twigs— all of it in pristine condition and just begging to be flown.

For the first time in the year and a half James had known him, Sirius was speechless.

James stepped back, still grinning, as Sirius turned the broom over in his hands, fingering the silver lettering where the make and model were engraved, tracing the grain of the wood, stroking it as one might stroke a pet. Long minutes passed in silence as Sirius stared at the broom, dumbstruck and seemingly dazed by James' gift.

At length, Sirius looked up, and though he still remained silent, James could see the gratitude in his best friend's eyes.

"Worth the wait?" James asked.

Laughing, Sirius nodded, trying discreetly to wipe his eyes.

"Wanna give it a go?"

With a bark of laughter and a broad grin, Sirius leaped to his feet. "Race you to the pitch!"

-.-.-

Ten minutes later, the three Gryffindors soared over the Quidditch pitch, whooping with delight. James' Nimbus was still the fastest of the three, faster by far than the Comet 220 Peter had brought from home, but Sirius' Cleansweep put on a good showing. It surpassed the school brooms by leaps and bounds in every respect: speed, stability, maneuverability…

James, of course, had done his research, so he knew that it was a sturdy broom, excellent for Beaters. Mrs. Black would pitch a fit if she found out that her rebel son had obtained it— which, incidentally, was one argument among many James had used to convince his parents to help him pay for a brand new athletic broom for a boy they'd met only twice. Mr. Potter had been on board practically from the moment James first owled them his idea (anything to encourage Sirius to further distance himself from the rest of his family), but Mrs. Potter had taken a bit more convincing. When James reminded her that Sirius wasn't likely to receive anything from his family for his birthday or Christmas, however, her reservations vanished, and she had insisted upon the very best broom available.

It had been Mr. Potter's idea to wait until Christmas, and James had decided to make a game of it by wrapping the bottle of frog-spawn soap in pages torn from the latest issue of _Which Broomstick? _— pages on which the Cleansweep 6 was prominently displayed, if Sirius had bothered to look at them.

James, Sirius, and Peter flew until breakfast at seven, when they hurried inside to scarf down some sticky buns and pumpkin juice before dashing back down to the Quidditch pitch. They spent the better part of the day there, racing each other and pulling tricks in midair, and only once did Sirius try to tell James that he couldn't accept the broom, that his own gift seemed pathetic by comparison.

James, of course, waved off this feeble protest (Sirius' awe over his new broom was obvious, and James sincerely doubted he could have taken the Cleansweep back if he'd tried). If Sirius and Peter really thought that they needed to do something to repay him, James told them firmly as they headed in for lunch, then they would just have to help him find some first-rate secret passages before the end of the holidays.

They agreed heartily, and when a snowstorm blew in that afternoon, they put their brooms away and began their search at once.

-.-.-

Two days and three newly-discovered secret passages later, James lay on the common room floor, looking over his list of Hogwarts' secrets, which he kept in the leather journal his father had given him for Christmas the year before. The list was several pages long already, and as he read through it, James noticed several passages whose existence he'd completely forgotten. Why, he hadn't used the broom cupboard stairs on the fourth floor in over a year!

"We need a map."

Sirius and Peter looked up from their chess game. Sirius pursed his lips. "I thought it was a name we needed."

James rolled his eyes. "Whatever. We can put the name on the map if you like."

"_What_ map?" Peter asked, raising his eyebrow.

"A map of Hogwarts." James waved his journal in the air for the other two to see. "Of all the secret passages and such."

Putting on a thoughtful face, Sirius nodded. "Could be useful."

"But Remus said that Hogwarts is unplottable," Peter said.

"Details." James grinned. "There's gotta be a way, Pete. That's the first rule of pranking. There's _always_ a way."

Sirius chuckled. "We'll just have to be creative about it."

Peter rolled his eyes and turned back to the chessboard, where his Queen had decided to take advantage of the players' distraction and bludgeon Sirius' knight with a few hapless pawns. Peter frowned and tried to separate the brawling pieces. "Okay, but have either of you got any ideas about _how_ to make a map?"

"Er…" James glanced to Sirius hopefully.

Sirius stared back, equally clueless.

"Well," said James, "we can always ask Remus when he gets back."

-.-.-

Friday morning, an owl arrived with a letter from Remus, telling James that he couldn't possibly accept his gift, that it was far too extravagant and Remus could never hope to match it.

To be honest, James had expected this letter no later than Christmas dinner, but evidently the Lupins didn't own an owl. And since, according to the letter, the Lupins lived just outside Creetown, a muggle city that didn't have any wizarding establishments, Remus had had to wait until his mother could take him to the Diagon Alley owl post office on Thursday evening.

"What'd you get him?" Sirius asked curiously after reading Remus' letter.

"Magical encyclopedia," said James, buttering his toast. "With as much time as he spends in the library, I figured he might like to have his own portable version."

While Sirius and Peter chuckled, James reached into his bag for a quill, ink, and parchment to respond to Remus, telling him that he, Sirius, and Peter could all get together after the holidays to complain about James' choice in gifts. Sirius, who was reading over James' shoulder, snorted and said _he_ wasn't complaining, and James had better not be thinking of taking back the Cleansweep, unless he wanted to discover firsthand what sorts of jinxes Sirius had been learning.

When they left the Great Hall to find Luftwing and send the letter to Remus, James and his friends saw that the winter storm that had rolled in on Christmas was still going strong. As such, the three Gryffindors were stuck inside with only the secret passage hunt to occupy their time. Though normally this would have had the power to hold James' attention indefinitely, he'd found himself growing distracted of late. What was the point in finding a hundred passages if you couldn't keep track of them?

It was no surprise, then, that upon crossing paths with Severus Snape in the owlery, James decided to have a bit of fun.

"Hey, Snivellus," James called, reaching into the pocket where he'd stashed his Ever-Oozing Sticky Stones. Snape turned, scowling, and James grinned. "Catch!"

He flung a Sticky Stone at Snape's face, and the boy caught it on instinct. "What's this, Potter?" he asked, peering at the nondescript bogey-colored stone, which was only about the size of a thumbnail and looked completely innocent.

"_Emano!_" James said, pointing his wand at the stone in Snape's hand. At once, a viscous, greenish slime began to flow from it, coating Snape's hand and dripping thickly to the ground. Snape's nose wrinkled in disgust and he made to throw the stone over the battlements, but the ooze was so thick that it remained precisely where it was, nestled in the palm of his hand.

Sirius burst out laughing. "Nice one, James," he said. "But you're forgetting something."

"Oh?"

"_Mobilito Ligamen!_" Sirius called. He made a peculiar twisting motion with his wand, and Snape's arm swung upward, slapping wetly against the side of his face. A few droplets of ooze went flying at the impact, and then the goop had a hold of him. Try as he might, Snape couldn't seem to pull his hand away from his face. Sirius smirked. "That's for what you did at Slughorn's party!"

Roaring with laughter, James spun on his heel and started down the steps toward the warmth of the castle. "C'mon," he said between bouts of mirth. "Before he touches us."

Sirius sniggered into his hand, and Peter gave a nervous little chuckle. Both followed James' example and hurried down the stairs, leaving Snape with his hand stuck to his face, which had gone a furious shade of red as he stared after the Gryffindors, muttering angrily to himself.

-.-.-

Part of him knew that he couldn't possibly get away with the prank. Snape would surely go to the professors straight away, and there weren't exactly many other students around to pin it on. Still, James and his friends did their best to avoid the professors for the rest of the morning, lurking around secret passages and practicing jinxes in the secret room on the fifth floor.

Nevertheless, they had to come out of hiding eventually, if only because they were hungry and didn't feel like going to the kitchens. Professor McGonagall descended on them the instant they entered the Great Hall for lunch, eyes blazing. She informed them that their stunt had cost Gryffindor fifteen points and that they would be serving detention with Hagrid that evening after dinner, and then she stalked back to the head table without another word.

"Definitely worth it, though," Sirius said as they sat down to eat.

"Definitely," said James.

And so that evening, they met Hagrid in the Entrance Hall, where he handed them each a large, metal shovel and gestured them out through the front doors. It had finally stopped snowing, and the snow lay several feet deep across the grounds, except for a broad, deep trench leading down toward Hagrid's hut.

Sirius eyed his shovel with distaste. "Please tell me we don't have to do what I think we have to do."

Hagrid chuckled. "Sorry, Sirius. I've got ter clear a path fer the carriages that'll be bringin' all the other students back on Sunday."

"Can't we just use a warming charm to _melt_ all the snow?" James asked, eyeing the long, bare white stretch between the castle and the gates in the distance.

"'Fraid not," said Hagrid. "If yeh melt the snow, it'll jus' freeze tonight, an' thestrals don' like ter walk on ice. They're like ta try flyin' if it's too slippery, never mind the carriages they'll be pullin'. Don' wanna start the new term off with a horde o' injured students." He gave an apologetic smile and set his own shovel to work clearing the drive. "Best get ta work, 'fore it gets too dark."

Heaving sighs, James and his friends began to shovel. Their progress was slow, to say the least, for it took at least two passes to clear away enough of the three feet of snow to satisfy Hagrid, who informed them that if the snow was too deep, the thestrals would try to fly over it. Evidently thestrals didn't particularly like to stay on the ground, except when they were tired or hungry, and though Hagrid had trained his herd to stay earthbound, any number of things could make them take flight. Ice, snow, loose stones, knarls, and a dozen more minor inconveniences had to be cleared away to keep the invisible horses happy.

As they worked, they talked, grumbling at first about having to shovel out the drive for one harmless little prank.

"Too bad Remus isn't here," James said after half an hour, his arms already aching and his toes half frozen off, despite the warming charm he'd cast on his shoes. "He'd know a spell to make the shovels do the work themselves."

"Remus wouldn't have gotten a detention with us," Peter pointed out.

Sirius nodded. "He'd probably be in the library right now, reading ahead in Transfigurations and planning out the lecture he'd give us when we got back."

Laughing, James hoisted another shovelful of snow out of his way. "That's probably true."

They were silent for a while, and then Peter spoke up.

"D'you think his mum's feeling better?"

"I hope so," said Sirius fervently. "If she keeps on like she has, Remus is gonna drop dead before the end of the year."

"No kidding." James shook his head, remembering how tired Remus had been after returning from St. Mungo's in November. All that stress couldn't be good for him. "I wonder what's wrong with her." Sirius and Peter mumbled vague responses. After a second, James turned to Hagrid. "Hey, Hagrid. Do _you_ know what's wrong with Remus' mum?"

Hagrid glanced up sharply. "Eh? What would I know summat like tha' fer?"

"I dunno." James shrugged. "I just figured, since Remus is always going down to talk to you… Maybe he mentioned something over tea or something."

"Somethin' like what?"

What, indeed? James didn't know why he kept getting hung up on Mrs. Lupin's illness, except that Remus never talked about it, despite the obvious impact it had on him whenever she relapsed. "Anything. I just can't help thinking he isn't telling us something. I mean, look at how long it took him to tell us about his dad."

"Yeah," said Sirius thoughtfully. "He probably wouldn't tell us anything even if he _did_ know what was wrong with her."

Peter worried his lip for a moment before speaking. "Maybe he just doesn't want to talk about it. We shouldn't force him to tell us if he doesn't want to."

"But it's not healthy," James argued. "You've seen him! How are we supposed to help him if we don't know what's going on?"

Nodding, Sirius turned to Hagrid. "So, Hagrid, he said anything to you?"

Hagrid didn't answer right away, and all three boys stopped shoveling to frown at him. James couldn't help but notice that the large man looked suddenly nervous. He tugged at the collar of his moleskin overcoat and avoided three pairs of curious eyes.

"Hagrid?" James asked.

"No," said Hagrid gruffly. "If Remus hasn't told yeh himself, I shouldn't go runnin' me mouth off without his say-so."

James couldn't keep the sly grin off his face. "So there _is_ something he isn't telling us!"

"Now hold on jus' one minute!" Hagrid said, red-faced, a note of alarm in his voice. "I didn't say—"

"You didn't have to," Sirius said. "I wonder what it is? You don't think his mum's worse that he's letting on, do you?"

James didn't have an answer for that, and Hagrid resolutely refused to open his mouth again, except to tell them, an hour later, that they were free to go. But James couldn't stop thinking about what it might be that Remus was hiding. He, Sirius, and Peter discussed it late into the night without coming up with any credible ideas (Peter had suggested that Remus was the sick one, not his mother, but James was quick to point out that if Remus was _that_ sick, he wouldn't be at Hogwarts.)

Even after Sirius and Peter fell asleep, James lay awake for some time, peering through the darkness toward the indistinct smudge that was Remus' bed, thinking about his friend and what secret he could possibly be keeping from his friends. Didn't Remus know that he could tell them anything?

-.-.-

The next morning started uneventfully, the Great Hall at breakfast empty except for the professors and a handful of students, but the quiet wouldn't last long.

Only three owls came in to deliver post – one bearing a letter for Dumbledore (who turned somber and left the room at once), one with a small package for a Hufflepuff girl whose parents had gone to visit relatives in Italy over the holidays, and one with a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ for Head Girl Louise Holoway, who sat a few feet from the trio, chatting amicably with Bertha Jorkins and Michael Johnson.

As soon as Louise unfolded the _Prophet_, her smile vanished. She read in silence, a pained expression crossing her face.

"Oh, Merlin," she breathed, raising a shaking hand to her mouth.

Bertha looked up at once, no doubt scenting a nasty rumor in the making. "What is it?"

Silently, Louise passed the _Prophet_ across the table for Bertha to read. The girl did so with her tongue poking out, eyes gleaming as she took in whatever was on the page. When she had finished, she looked up with a look of feigned concern.

"It can't be," she breathed. "I heard that's where the Minister lives!"

"Don't be thick, Bertha," Louise said testily, her face buried in her hands. "Creetown's all muggle. Says so right in the article."

James stopped breathing.

"Creetown?" Sirius asked weakly. "Isn't that…"

"Where Remus lives," James said. Without even realizing he'd stood, he found himself approaching the other Gryffindors, his heart racing. "Could I see that for a minute?"

Bertha's eyes glinted excitedly. "You don't want to read this article," she assured him sweetly. "The _Prophet_ never prints the whole story. You've got to learn to read between the lines. For instance—"

Louise cleared her throat. "_Bertha_." Not waiting for a reply, the Head Girl reached across the table, plucked the newspaper out of Bertha's hands, and extended it to James, who squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment. Then, with a deep breath, James forced himself to read the headline emblazoned across the front page, above the picture of an empty street.

**CREETOWN ATTACKED! MINISTRY POWERLESS  
TO STOP MYSTERIOUS KILLER!**

Late last night, the muggle village of Creetown in Dumfries and  
Galloway, southwest Scotland, fell victim to the latest in a long line  
of harrowing attacks. Ministry of Magic officials confirm the use of  
magical means to carry out the attack, although additional  
information on the attacker or his motive is being kept tightly under  
wraps. Creetown is closed off to all but a select team of Aurors and  
Obliviators, who are doing their best to modify survivors' memories  
and relocate them to a safer area.

The latest estimates put the death toll at sixteen, with an additional  
two dozen injuries requiring medical attention. No word yet on  
whether any witches or wizards were among the victims.

Our readers will remember other, similar, attacks being carried out  
around the country in recent months, and yet it seems the Ministry  
has done nothing of substance to apprehend the culprit. Who is this  
madman who strikes in the dead of night, leaving behind nothing  
but his victims' mutilated bodies? Is he acting alone, or is there a  
whole band of mass-murderers out there? When will he (or _they_) be  
brought to justice? When will our homes, our _children_, be safe once  
more? Only time will tell. We pray that no more will die before the  
Ministry does its job and takes this killer off the streets at last.


	15. Something Wicked

**Chapter 15: Something Wicked**

James and Sirius had been planning a prank to start the new term with a good laugh, but after the article in the _Daily Prophet_ about the attack on Creetown, neither boy could focus on something as lighthearted as coating their classmates in custard. Sixteen deaths, and dozens more injured. Were Remus and his mother among that number?

As soon as he read the article, James sprinted up to the owlery to send Luftwing out with a frantic letter to Remus, asking if he and his mother were alright. Sirius and Peter arrived just as Luftwing took flight.

After that, there was nothing to do but wait. James, Sirius, and Peter returned to their dormitory, where they tried to focus on chess, exploding snap, gobstones, and paper Quidditch in turn. No matter what they tried, however, their thoughts kept returning to Remus and whether he was hurt like so many others. Before long, they descended into a brooding silence as each stared blankly into space, lost in their own thoughts. They hardly noticed when lunchtime passed them by.

Sometime in the afternoon, Professor McGonagall showed up, looking concerned, and asked them what was the matter.

"Did you see the _Prophet_ this morning?" James asked dully, staring blankly at the bedspread rather than meeting McGonagall's piecing gaze. He and Peter had moved onto their beds about an hour ago, although Sirius was still sprawled on his back in the middle of the floor.

"I did." She sounded confused, and James gnawed on his lip for a moment before he continued.

"Well… Remus lives just outside Creetown, and we haven't heard from him since a letter he sent on Thursday."

"What if something's happened to him?" Peter asked in a small voice, hugging his knees to his chest.

McGonagall didn't answer immediately. When James glanced up, he saw a troubled expression on her face as her eyes traveled from one boy to the next before settling on Remus' empty bed. "Have you owled him?"

James nodded. "Just after breakfast. We're still waiting for a response."

"Very well." She hesitated, and if James didn't know any better, he would have sworn he saw a glimmer of fear in her eyes. "When you hear from Mr. Lupin, let me—"

A sharp rap at the window cut McGonagall off mid-sentence, and James swiveled around to find Luftwing perched on the windowsill. Springing up from his bed, James dashed over to undo the latch so that the owl could enter and land on James' outstretched arm. Luftwing crooned mournfully as James fumbled with the bit of twine holding the scroll of parchment to his leg.

When at last he unrolled the letter, James felt his heart plummet straight down to the dungeons.

"What's it say?" Sirius asked breathlessly, coming up behind James.

James shook his head dumbly, crumpling the parchment into a ball, which he flung against the far wall with a strangled cry.

Peter's eyes had gone wide. "James…?"

"Potter!" Professor McGonagall said in alarm. "What on _earth—_"

"That's my letter," James said, blinking back tears. He turned to McGoangall desperately. "Luftwing didn't deliver my letter to Remus. _Why didn't he deliver my letter? _Remus isn't—?" James couldn't finish the thought. He couldn't seem to draw in enough air; his vision blurred as images of his friend, bloodied and lifeless, swam behind his eyes. The room was spinning around him, and he felt as though he'd been hit with the Jelly-Legs Jinx.

A moment later, he found himself sitting on his bed, a pair of hands gripping his arms tightly, although not painfully so. Professor McGonagall crouched before him, staring over the tops of her spectacles at him.

"Mr. Potter," she said softly, firmly. "I need you to calm down. We don't know that anything has happened to Remus."

James shook his head, trying to get rid of the ringing in his ears. "But, Luftwing—"

"There could be any number of reasons an owl might fail to deliver a letter, Mr. Potter. She spoke slowly, calmly, as though this were a Transfigurations lecture, and tightened her grip on James' arms. "Mrs. Lupin might have put up protective wards around her house, for one. The Ministry is turning away visitors, as well, you remember? They might be sending owls away. Or Remus may have gone somewhere your owl cannot find him – a safehouse, perhaps, or the Ministry of Magic, or a relative's house."

Remus had never mentioned a relative, James thought sluggishly. He'd said it was just him and his mother at home, and surely if he had an aunt or uncle, they would be helping to care for Mrs. Lupin.

Nevertheless, the pressure in James' chest was beginning to loosen as he listened to McGonagall's matter-of-fact voice.

"Remus is fine," she said. "Luftwing returned here because he wasn't able to get to Remus, that's all. There are other ways for wizards to contact one another."

Somewhere nearby, Sirius inhaled sharply. "So can you find out what's happened, Professor?"

McGonagall nodded. "Are you going to be alright, Mr. Potter?"

James nodded, scrubbing his face with the cuff of his robes.

"Alright, then this is what I'll do." Professor McGonagall glanced around at the three boys. "I am going to see the Headmaster. We will find out what has happened to Remus— No, Mr. Black, you cannot come. I need you three to stay in Gryffindor Tower. I will return the moment I learn anything, and I need to know where to find you. Do you understand?"

Once James, Sirius, and Peter had nodded, McGonagall stood and swept from the room, leaving a hollow silence in her wake. Luftwing alighted on James' bed and stared at James with his doleful orange gaze. James reached out absently to stroke the owl, trying not to let his thoughts return to everything that might have happened to Remus.

Peter resumed his position on his own bed, where he hugged his pillow to his chest like a stuffed animal and picked at a loose thread. Sirius, meanwhile, had begun to pace, and James follow his progress for a while until Luftwing stretched his wings and fluttered out the window. All three boys watched him go.

Not long after this, Sirius disappeared into the toilet, closing the door behind him. James could hear the sounds of movement for a few seconds, and then silence descended, as though Sirius had cast _Quietus_ on the door. With a sigh, James lay back on his bed, staring up at the crimson canopy as his mind chased itself in circles.

_Let him be alright_, he kept repeating in his head. _Just let him be alright._

-.-.-

Hours passed. Eventually, Sirius emerged from the toilet, his cheeks perhaps a bit redder than they had been before. Avoiding James' and Peter's curious gazes, he flopped down on his bed and dug out the box of fudge Mrs. Potter had set him for Christmas. James, who had begun to feel a bit queasy, rolled over to stare at the empty beds belonging to Frank Longbottom and Alexander Thorne.

What was taking so long? James didn't know whether it was a good sign or not that they had heard nothing from Professor McGonagall. On the one hand, if Remus was— James could hardly bear to think it— _dead_, surely McGonagall would have found out straight away and come to tell them… Unless the Ministry wasn't releasing the names of the victims, in which case McGonagall wouldn't have learned anything. On the other hand, if the Lupins had merely put up wards that kept owls away and the professors had better ways to contact them, didn't that mean that there should have been news within a few minutes?

James didn't know, and it was driving him mad.

Then, as the shadows lengthened, when James was just beginning to think that he really should find his wand and give them all some light, they heard someone coming up the stairs. James felt a surge of panic – was McGonagall coming to tell them Remus was hurt, or _worse_? – even as he tried to fight down a rising hope – it could be good news, couldn't it?

_It might not be McGonagall,_ James told himself, even as he sat up and turned toward the door. _It could be Michael going up to his room._

But Sirius and Peter had also bolted upright, and there was a palpable tension in the dormitory as they stared at the door. The handle turned. James was upon McGonagall even before she crossed the threshold.

"What happened?" he demanded. "How's Remus? Is he okay? Do you know where he is? How come Luftwing couldn't get through? What about his mum? Is—?"

"_Potter_," McGonagall cut across, one eyebrow raised. "One question at a time."

James drew in a deep breath and nodded. "How's Remus?"

In answer, McGonagall stepped aside. Standing behind her in the stairwell, pale and drawn, a thick woolen blanket wrapped around his shoulders, was Remus. He stared fixedly at the floor as McGonagall placed a hand on his shoulder and guided into the room.

"Remus!" James, Sirius, and Peter cried together.

The moments that followed were a blur of hugs and exclamations of relief, murmured questions and careful scrutiny to ensure that their friend had returned unscathed. During all of this, Remus remained still and silent, hardly acknowledging the enthusiastic reception.

At length, McGonagall separated Remus from his friends and guided him to his bed. When he had sat on the edge of the mattress, she withdrew his miniaturized trunk from her pocket, set it on the floor at the foot of his bed, and tapped it to return it to its normal size.

"Mr. Lupin has had a long day," McGonagall said softly, turning back to the other boys, "and I must ask that you give him space. Let him rest." She paused, glancing at Remus briefly before turning back to the others. "Come with me."

James, Sirius, and Peter followed Professor McGonagall from the dormitory down to the common room, where Louise Holoway sat working on an essay.

"Miss Holoway," said McGonagall. "I need to speak with these boys for a moment. Would you mind?"

"Of course, Professor." The Head Girl gathered her books and disappeared up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

When Louise had gone, McGonagall gestured for the boys to sit on a sofa, while she took the high-backed chair opposite. "I am sure you have questions—" She held up a hand as Sirius started to speak— "and I will answer as best I can. But there are some things I cannot tell you, and you must swear that you won't press Mr. Lupin for more information. He will tell you when he is ready, and not a moment sooner. Agreed?"

"Agreed," the boys chorused.

"Very well. What would you like to know?"

Sirius was the first to speak. "What happened, Professor?"

"There was an attack." McGonagall's eyes darkened. "The Ministry has not released any specifics at this time."

"Is Mrs. Lupin okay?" James asked.

"Yes, thank Merlin. As I understand it, she was feeling unwell and left work early. If she hadn't, she may well have been another victim."

Peter gasped. "What do you mean?"

Professor McGonagall seemed to consider her words before responding. "Mrs. Lupin works on the street where the attack began. She was scheduled to work last night when the attack occurred."

"Do you think whoever-it-was was targeting her?" James asked, wide-eyed.

"I don't know, Mr. Potter, but that's highly unlikely."

"How come?"

With a sigh, McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't know if you are aware, Mr. Potter, but this is not the first attack that has been reported. Suffice it to say that all the others have targeted muggles. The Lupins are the only wizards who live near Creetown, and they do not advertise that fact. I doubt the attacker was aware of Mrs. Lupin's presence or identity.

"Nevertheless," McGonagall continued, "it was a close thing, and both of the Lupins are more than a bit shaken. So, please, don't—"

"Don't pester him about it, right," said James. "How come Luftwing couldn't deliver my letter?"

Though McGonagall looked indignant at the interruption, she made no comment about it. "Early this morning, when they heard about the attack, Mrs. Lupin owled Headmaster Dumbledore asking for help moving to a more secure location—"

"I thought you said they weren't the target!" Sirius protested.

McGonagall frowned at him. "I don't believe they are, but as I've said, both were shaken, and in order to put their minds at ease, the Headmaster went to assist them in putting up wards around their new house. At least some of them were already up when your owl arrived, Mr. Potter, and so he was unable to complete his delivery. It also delayed my own attempts to contact the Lupins. Fortunately, I was able to contact the Headmaster, who asked me to come get Mr. Lupin and bring him back here. His mother felt it would do him good to be surrounded by his friends." A smile twitched across McGonagall's face. "Apparently he speaks quite highly of you three."

A small smile tugged at James' lips.

McGonagall stood, all brusque efficiency once more. "If that's all, you ought to go see to Mr. Lupin. Don't agitate him _too_ terribly," she added wearily, as though realizing this was a tall order for the school pranksters. "I will send house elves up with some food for the four of you shortly. Do try to get Remus to eat something."

Nodding, James led his friends back to the dormitory while Professor McGonagall turned toward the girls' dormitories to inform Louise Holoway that she could return to the common room.

Remus appeared not to have moved since the others left. Huddled under the gray wool blanket, he stared blankly at the orange-tinted sky visible through the windows. James, Sirius, and Peter exchanged glances; Remus didn't acknowledge their presence.

After a moment, James crossed the room and sat down beside Remus. He placed a hand on the other boy's shoulder, feeling him jump at the touch. Slowly, Remus turned to face James, who gave a small, encouraging smile.

"Alright, Remus?"

Remus dropped his gaze, but nodded mutely.

"Do you need anything?" Peter asked, sitting on his own bed, facing Remus. Sirius joined James and Remus on Remus' bed.

Remus shook his head. "I think I'm just gonna go to bed," he said in a low voice. "Long day." He attempted a smile, but it turned out as more of a grimace.

James and Sirius exchanged a look. "Alright," said Sirius. "But we're right here if you need anything."

When Remus said nothing more, James and Sirius stood. Remus pulled off his shoes and, not bothering to change out of his muggle clothes, settled in under the covers and waved his wand to close the curtains around his bed.

The other three stared at each other for a long while, at a loss for how to help their friend, before they each returned to their own beds and lost themselves in their thoughts once more.

-.-.-

In the coming days, Remus remained aloof and subdued, and though he seemed reluctant to stray too far from his friends' company, he didn't join in their conversations or games. He spent his time reading or staring blankly across the room. He jumped at the slightest noise and grew tense whenever his friends reached out to comfort him.

When classes started a few days later, Remus seemed unable to focus in lessons. James and Sirius had to take more thorough notes than usual so that Remus could copy them later, once he realized that he'd missed half the lecture. Even Lily Evans seemed to notice something was amiss, but whenever she approached, Remus brushed off her concern and drifted closer to James and Sirius, as though to discourage further questions.

Remus' correspondence with his mother had certainly picked up, and he borrowed Luftwing several times in the first week of term to respond to the letters she sent him. He seemed unusually secretive about the contents of these letters, burning most of them after he read them so that his friends wouldn't accidentally discover them. James supposed he and his mother were talking about the attack, and that Remus wasn't yet ready to share it with his friends.

Strange new rumors spread through the school, largely as a result of Bertha Jorkins' relentless nattering, and in his nervousness, Remus paid them an undue measure of attention. The attacker, Bertha said, had come to Hogwarts and was hiding in the Forbidden Forest.

"It's true," said a fifth year Hufflepuff returning from Care of Magical Creatures one day. "We were in the forest today, and there were all these creepy noises. I think someone was watching us!"

"There were definitely footsteps," her friend agreed. "And the bowtruckles were all in a panic. I think they could tell someone was there who shouldn't be."

Stories like this swirled through the school, each more preposterous than the last, and though James and Sirius laughed away most of the paranoia, they could tell it was getting to Remus. When the four of them went to visit Hagrid the first Saturday of term, Remus hardly took his eyes off the shadows between the trees. James had to tap him on the shoulder to let him know they had reached Hagrid's hut, and Remus nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise.

Thanks to his encyclopedia (which Remus seemed more comfortable with after Sirius proudly showed off his Cleansweep 6), Remus rarely had to venture into the library for homework, so he spent the evenings in the common room and dormitory with James, Sirius, and Peter. In fact, James noted that the only times Remus was out of his sight was when James and Sirius had Quidditch practice (during which Remus stayed inside with Peter to work on homework) and once or twice when Remus went to see Professor McGonagall in her office (what they talked about, James didn't know, but both times Remus took a crumpled up letter with him).

It was nearly two weeks before Remus began to return to normal. James had spent so much time worried about his friend that he hadn't gone exploring since the holidays and so, on the evening of the second Wednesday of term, James declared that he was feeling cooped up and wanted to sneak out after curfew. Sirius and Peter agreed at once, but Remus, looking nervous, declined.

"You sure?" James asked half hour before curfew, as he, Sirius, and Peter waited for the common room to empty of older students. "We haven't been caught yet!"

Remus shook his head. "I'd rather not."

"Suit yourself. Hey, Peter, go get a head-count."

Peter scampered off and returned, a few minutes later, with a frown. "Still about a dozen."

"Drat."

"Well," said Sirius, who lay across James' bed, his legs kicked up against the headboard, "guess we'll just have to waste a bit more time… Anyone come up with new name suggestions?"

"No," said three voices as one.

James chuckled at the crestfallen look on Sirius' face. "That reminds me, though— Remus, what do you know about making maps?"

Remus looked like he was fighting not to roll his eyes. "You can't make a map of Hogwarts, James. It's unplottable."

"Well, then, what exactly does _unplottable_ mean?"

"It means," Remus said patiently, "that you can't use any mapmaking spells to record Hogwarts, or any part of Hogwarts, on a map."

After a moment's pause, James nodded. "Well, then, we'll just have to use _non_-mapmaking spells."

With a sigh, Remus turned his attention back to the book in his lap. "If it was that easy, don't you think they'd give a map to every first year? Everyone gets lost at least once in their first week."

He had a point, but James would never admit that out loud. "I'm not saying it'll be easy, but there's _got_ to be a way."

"You could do it by hand."

"The whole castle?"

Remus shrugged.

James made a face. "No thanks."

They waited a few more minutes before James went to check the common room again. There were still a handful of students studying, but Frank and Alexander were packing up their homework at last and turning in for the night. After this, James and his friends had to wait more than half an hour for their dormmates to fall asleep.

By that time, fortunately, the common room was deserted.

They left through the portrait hole and ducked under the invisibility cloak before setting off to explore. Hours later, Peter began to stumble from exhaustion and so, although they had discovered no new passages, the three boys trudged back to Gryffindor Tower.

Remus, who had been sitting up reading when they returned, set his book aside as soon as they entered the dormitory. He ran his eyes over each of his friends, as though to double check that each was still in one piece. Then, without a word, he rolled over and drew his curtains closed around his bed.


	16. The Snitch

**Chapter 16: The Snitch**

The next week passed in the usual humdrum of classes and homework. In sharp contrast to the other professors, who had increased the difficulty after the Christmas holidays, Lynx had mostly stopped trying to cram their heads full of spells, turning his attention instead to dueling. It made his lessons marginally more bearable, especially since the students were permitted to select their own partners. James and Sirius had great fun hexing each other in a teacher-approved fashion, while Remus and Peter set a comfortable pace and avoided the more painful spells they had learned.

When Lynx did teach them new spells, however, they were more challenging than ever. _Glacius_, a charm to freeze water, might have been appealing in the stifling heat of June, but it was mid-January, and James saw quite enough ice and snow whenever he looked out a window. On the other end of the spectrum, there was _Glisseo_, which turned stairs into slides. James and Sirius put in more effort than even Lily Evans to master _that_ spell, which James knew had decidedly few uses outside of pranks, despite Lynx's lecture on always having a quick exit, no matter where you fought.

"But if we're good enough," Sirius had grumbled as he worked on the charm, "we won't _have_ to run away."

"Five points from Gryffindor," Lynx barked. "Good aurors don't run and they don't lose, so long as luck is on their side, but seein' as you're a long way from being any sort of auror, Black, there's plenty of runnin' _and_ losin' in your future. So keep workin'."

Most of the school had overlooked the attack on Creetown, not realizing how close Remus had come to losing his mother. The rumors of an intruder in the Forbidden Forest, however, had mutated as Hogwarts' rumors so often did into something most of the school treated as a bad joke. James had long since stopped paying attention, and even Remus hardly missed a beat when some new story made the rounds. The stories were so remarkably far-fetched and hilariously improbable that even James couldn't figure out a way to improve them, and it wasn't for lack of trying.

But when a fifth year named Sturgis Podmore had to spend Wednesday evening in the Hospital Wing after he fainted while taking a stroll around the lake, James could no longer deny his curiosity. On the way back from dinner that evening, James and his friends passed a group of students talking about Sturgis' encounter by the lake.

"He said there was something in the forest," said a girl with two blonde braids and a sharp chin. A small crowd of fourth and fifth years had gathered around her.

James' steps slowed as he strained his ears to listen in on the conversation. Sirius and Peter followed James' gaze and watched the older students with curiosity; Remus glanced over his shoulder once, rolled his eyes, and continued toward the stairs.

"It was big— _huge_, he said!" the blonde girl spread her arms wide. "As big as three or four people, at least! And hairy, with a really deep growl."

"Sounds like Hagrid," James called, fighting a grin. "Maybe he's got a pet out there in the forest."

The girl and her friends shot James a dirty look and flounced off down a corridor, leaving the three second years to snicker at what they had heard.

"I can't believe they all still think there's something in there," Sirius said. "I'm pretty sure if some madman had come to Hogwarts, we'd know."

"You sure about that, Black?"

James turned to find Severus Snape lurking in the shadow of a gargoyle with Sirius' brother, Regulus. James hadn't seen Regulus up close since the day on the _Hogwarts Express_, and he was sad to see that he had made a habit of spending time with Snape.

Hardly sparing a glance for his brother, Sirius glared at Snape. "Yeah, Snivellus, I'm fairly sure there's no way a mass murderer could sneak onto the grounds without the professors finding out about it."

"Is that so?" Snape sneered. "Well if it's so safe, why haven't I seen _you_ out on the grounds lately?"

"You think maybe it has something to do with the snow drifts higher than our heads?" James asked scathingly.

Snape only scoffed. "Or maybe you're too scared to go out where the awful _monster _might come get you."

"We aren't scared!" Sirius argued. "We'd march right into the forest!"

Peter squeaked in fright. "We would?"

"Of course we would," said James, crossing his arm and glaring at the Slytherins.

"In fact," Sirius said, grinning nonchalantly, "we'll go right now. C'mon, guys."

Regulus furrowed his brow. "Are you sure—?"

"Oh, of course," Snape cut across, eyes glinting maliciously. "Go down to the forest _now_, while the sun's out, never mind that everyone knows the attacks only happen at night."

Sirius' expression soured. "When, then? Tonight? Are you going to be there to make sure, or will you just take our word for it?"

Snape's eyes widened minutely, but he quickly plastered another scowl on his face. "I'll be there," he assured them, "if only to watch you twits cringe at your own shadows."

Both Peter and Regulus looked like they wanted to argue, but Sirius and Snape paid them no mind.

"See you at midnight, _Snivellus_. If you aren't too scared."

"Midnight," Snape echoed. "Unless you're too busy hiding under your blankets."

Without another word, the two spun and set off in opposite directions, leaving James, Peter, and Regulus staring at each other in mild confusion. Regulus shot his brother an odd look before he trailed away after Snape. Sighing, James and Peter turned to follow Sirius.

They walked in silence for a few minutes before James said, "So… Never been to the forest at midnight."

Sirius neither slowed his pace nor turned to look at James. "If you're scared, you can stay behind."

James rolled his eyes. "I'm not scared."

"Me either," Peter insisted, although he didn't sound at all convincing.

They reached the Fat Lady's portrait soon enough, called out the password, and entered the common room. Remus sat in their usual corner, working on homework. In the waning sunlight, he looked horrendously pale and thin, as though he'd come down with the flu – or maybe it was just that he wasn't eating much lately. James and Sirius practically had to levitate the food to his mouth before he would swallow more than a few bites at a time. And James had to wonder how much sleep his friend had been getting; twice in the last week, James had found Remus kneeling by the fireplace in the common room before dawn, simply staring into the flames.

"Alright, Remus?" James asked presently, throwing himself down beside the other boy, who gave a small start, jerking his quill across the essay he was writing.

He recovered quickly and grabbed his wand to fix his essay. "Just finishing History of Magic."

Sirius wrinkled his nose. "Blimey, Remus. We only had the class four hours ago."

"This _is_ Remus we're talking about," James reminded him.

"I see your point."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Nothing wrong with keeping up on homework." He opened his schoolbag, removed a quill, ink, and parchment, and set to work on his own essay.

James gave a dramatic moan and fell back against the sofa. "Remus, you've corrupted him!" Sirius and Peter laughed, but Remus frowned as he traded History for Charms and began to read. "Oh, come on, Remus. Relax. Have some fun."

Remus ignored him.

Rolling his eyes, James caught Sirius' gaze and nodded toward the stairs. Leaving their friends to their homework, they set off in search of something more amusing to pass the time till midnight.

-.-.-

Several hours later, James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus were alone in the common room. Eliot Donovan had finally turned in, and the boys only had a few minutes to get to the Forbidden Forest before Snape accused them of backing out of the dare. As soon as Eliot's dormitory door closed, James abandoned the essay he'd been pretending to write.

"You're going out again, aren't you?"

James paused at Remus' question. He glanced at Peter and Sirius, who shrugged, before turning back to Remus. "You wanna come?"

Remus shook his head.

With a shrug, James pulled his winter cloak out from his bag and flung it around his shoulders.

"Wait a minute," Remus said sharply. "You're going to _Hogsmeade_? You aren't still on about that ruddy Shrieking Shack, are you?"

Sirius fastened the clasp of his own cloak and gave Remus a patient smile. "No, Remus, we aren't going to Hogsmeade. Just out for a stroll."

"What, on the _grounds?_" A note of fear had crept into Remus' voice, and he lurched to his feet, jaw dropped. The book he'd been reading fell to the floor with a muffled _whump_.

James fought the urge to snort. "Don't tell me you believe all that rubbish about the monster in the forest."

Remus' mouth snapped shut.

"You do!" Sirius pointed an accusing finger at Remus, laughing in disbelief. "Merlin's beard! You're the smartest bloke in our year, and you _actually_ believe there's a monster at Hogwarts!"

With a visible flinch, Remus shook his head. "You shouldn't sneak out of the castle," he said in a small, pleading voice. "There are loads of dangerous creatures in the forest – why do you think the professors tell us to stay away from there?"

"Who said anything about going into the forest?" Sirius asked, far too innocently.

James wouldn't have thought Remus' eyes could get any larger, but they did.

"You worry too much," James said before Remus could explode (for he looked like he wanted to do just that). "We'll be back in an hour or so."

"We've just got to show a few snakes what it means to be a Gryffindor," Sirius said.

Remus covered his face with his hands. "This is all about a _dare_?" he asked wearily. "With the _Slytherins_?"

James shrugged. "Can't back out now."

"Yes, you _can_."

Glancing at his watch, Sirius frowned. "We don't have time for this, mate. We're gonna be late."

"Right." James turned toward the portrait hole, but Remus caught him by the elbow.

"James, don't do this," he urged. "_Please_ don't go out there."

Peter shifted nervously. "It's no big deal, Remus. I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

Remus looked at him incredulously. "You mean aside from meeting any number of dangerous things in the forest? How about the fact that you told _Slytherins_ that you were going to the _Forbidden_ Forest – _after curfew_? You really think they aren't going to go straight to the professors about this?"

"That's why we take the invisibility cloak," James pointed out, patting the pocket where the cloak was stashed. "Any professors show up and we just have to duck under here. Problem solved."

But James could see that Peter was having second thoughts. He bit his lip and glanced from James and Sirius to Remus and back.

Sirius made an impatient noise in his throat and pushed the portrait open. "You nancies do whatever you want. I'm going."

"No!" Remus cried, but Sirius was already through the portrait hole.

"Sorry, Remus," James called, following Sirius out onto the landing. "We'll be back soon, you'll see."

"But—!"

James didn't stick around to hear the rest of Remus' protest. He and Sirius took off down the stairs at a run, glancing around warily in case the professors were patrolling nearby. Thankfully, they made it to the fifth floor without incident and found the brick switch that opened a secret passage leading down to the first floor. From there, it was a simple matter of tiptoeing down one more staircase to the Entrance Hall, ducking under the invisibility cloak until Flich and Mrs. Norris passed by, and wriggling into the passage behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy.

They emerged in the quad with less than five minutes left before midnight.

Only then did James realize that Sirius and Snape had never actually agreed upon a meeting place more specific than "the Forbidden Forest," which was a rather large area for three second years (and a first year, if Regulus tagged along) to find each other.

This problem seemed not to have occurred to Sirius, or else he already had a spot in mind, for he turned toward the forest without a moment's pause and started off at a brisk pace. James followed, fingering the invisibility cloak, which was once more tucked away in the pocket of his robes. He wondered if perhaps Remus was right, after all, and it would be safer to don the cloak right now, just in case Snape had sent a professor down to the forest to meet them.

But Sirius had pulled ahead, and James had to jog to catch up. By the time James was close enough to suggest the cloak, they were at the tree line.

The darkness was deeper than James had expected, deeper than any darkness he'd ever seen. The black shadows between the trees were velvety, tangible… _alive_, as though the forest itself were sentient. Waiting. James had a sudden vision of huge, invisible beasts tearing into him, dragging him into the darkness, never to be seen again.

Sirius stepped forward.

The motion snapped James out of his thoughts. Shaking the preposterous visions out of his mind, he ventured into the forest, reaching into the pocket where he kept his wand— just in case.

Silence reigned in the forest; what sounds there were – hooting owls from behind them, chorusing insects somewhere among the thick foliage – came to them from a great distance, muted and muddy. James' and Sirius' footsteps, in contrast, were jarring in their clarity as snow crunched and twigs snapped underfoot. It was as though the forest had hushed itself to listen to their progress.

And progress they made, although the thick and tangled underbrush snagged at their robes and snow soaked their shoes. Forgetting their rendezvous with Snape, James ploughed ahead, peering into the darkness for a glimpse whatever it was people kept seeing. He could only imagine people's faces when he and Sirius told the story. (They would be careful, of course, not to tell Lily Evans or anyone else who'd snitch to the professors.) Peter and Remus would be sorry they'd missed it.

James had to wonder what_ it_ was. Hagrid, most likely, or one of his pets (which was not a comforting notion, now James thought about it; they last time they'd been to see the groundskeeper, he'd confessed a deep desire to own a dragon.) Or maybe it had all been a prank— but then, James couldn't think of anyone at Hogwarts, his friends excepted, who could have pulled off a prank of this magnitude.

At a nearby rustle, James and Sirius stopped, straining their eyes to find the source of the sound.

A sudden breeze ruffled James' hair, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. When it had passed, all sound seemed to have faded.

"What was that?" James asked aloud, his voice grating in the silence.

Sirius shrugged.

A sound like a laugh, low and rasping, filled the air.

James' wand was in his hand in an instant; his breath caught in his throat as his heart began to race.

"Decided to show your ugly little face, Snivellus?" Sirius called to the darkness in a surprisingly level voice. His wand, too, was thrust forward as he turned a slow circle. "_Lumos_."

Light flooded the forest, stinging James' eyes. Shadows leaped and skittered as Sirius swung his wand back and forth. Shapes lurked at the edges of James' vision – man and monster, dead and alive, crouched low to the ground and perched in the branches overhead. Whenever he turned to look, the shapes he thought he saw revealed themselves to be nothing more than the shadow of leaves and bushes or James' own shadow stretched out behind him… He could see nothing that might have laughed that horrible, mocking laugh.

The silence stretched. James' pulse slowed, and he allowed himself a single chuckle as he realized he was working himself up over one measly Slytherin.

"Give it up, Snivellus," he called in as bored a tone as he could muster. "We know it's you. _Lumos_."

With a second wave of wandlight illuminating the forest, the shadows stilled somewhat. They continued to swell and shrink as James and Sirius spread out to examine their surroundings, but the light was enough for James to see that Snape had yet to reveal himself.

"_Over here._"

The voice was so soft James might have imagined it. But Sirius twisted around at the same time as James, toward a thick stand of trees that the light of their wands could not penetrate. James' mouth had run dry, and when he opened it to speak, nothing but a rattle of breath came. But Sirius' hand was shaking, his wandlight twitching and jittering around the forest, and James knew they were thinking the same thing.

_That wasn't Snape's voice_.

The stranger's breath echoed around the forest, thin and gasping, like death itself. He laughed again. Then came silence so complete James thought someone must have cast a spell on him. He drew in a deep breath and held it, straining his ears to hear something… anything… He couldn't tell how far away the stranger was, or whether he was still there, watching, waiting.

The moment stretched on… Something glinted in the wandlight…

"I see light!"

"Over there!"

The distant voices startled James and Sirius into turning away from the thicket where the stranger was hiding. There was a rustle, a few snapping twigs, and the sound of footsteps fading into the distance.

For one fleeting second, James' hand went to his invisibility cloak. There might still be time to hide. But before he could do anything, two new figures, one tall and rigid, the other of middling height, emerged from the forest, wands out, identical looks of fury on their faces. Professor McGonagall scanned the forest once before turning her icy gaze on the two Gryffindors, her lips pulling down into a disapproving frown. Beside her, Lynx pushed his spectacles higher on the bridge of his nose, swept his wand in a wide semicircle, and muttered, "_Homenum Revelio_."

A moment passed before a feeble breath of wind tugged at their cloaks. Lynx and McGonagall traded solemn glances.

"Good as gone," Lynx said gruffly. "Tomorrow…" He left the thought unfinished, but McGonagall nodded.

"Indeed." Her gaze fell once more on the students, who flinched. "For now, we had best get these two back inside."

She placed a hand firmly on each boy's shoulder and turned them around. Lynx fell into step behind them as they began the long, slow trek back to the castle, neither professor breaking the silence, neither boy sure what to say in their own defense. Professor McGonagall's lips had settled into the thin line they only acquired when she was truly angry; her eyes stared stonily ahead as she guided them toward the edge of the forest. A quick backward glance showed that Lynx wore a deeper scowl than normal, and his eyes, which flickered from side to side, were full of a dark fire that made James shudder.

Out of the forest, up the broad, snow-covered slope on which James' and Sirius' footprints were exceedingly clear, and through the front doors they marched; they didn't stop until they had climbed several flights of stairs and come at last to McGonagall's office, where they were steered toward a pair of stiff wooden chairs. McGonagall and Lynx stood facing them, arms crossed, saying nothing for a very long time.

It was Sirius who broke the silence, several minutes later: "Well, did you at least catch Sniv—er, Snape?"

The frigid look Lynx turned on him shut him up immediately. "You mean to say you _saw_ Snape out in the forest with you?" Lynx growled.

"Er…" Sirius dropped his gaze and shook his head. "Not exactly…"

"Well then," said Professor McGonagall with a disapproving _tut_, "Mr. Snape is not the issue here. _You_, Black, Potter, _are_."

"What were you thinkin'?" Lynx reached into the pocket of his olive-colored robes for a small, stoppered vial containing a single eyeball in a yellowish solution. This he slammed down on McGonagall's desk; McGonagall's eyes drifted to the vial for the space of a heartbeat and her lips tugged downward.

_Does he carry that around with him all the time?_ James wondered, unable to keep the smile from his face. _Suppose it's good for parties_.

Lynx's eyes narrowed. "Think this is funny, Potter?"

"No," James said, schooling his expression.

"You might be a pair of corpses on the forest floor by now," Lynx pressed, as though James hadn't spoken. "You might've been torn to shreds so we'd not have so much as a fingernail to ship to your folks. But I s'pose you think that'd be a right fun way to go, do you?"

"No, sir," James and Sirius murmured.

McGonagall lifted her chin to stare at them along the length of her nose. "What on _earth_ would possess you to go out to the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night?"

Neither boy could bring himself to answer.

"Well?" McGonagall asked.

Lynx snorted. "Isn't it obvious, Minerva? They fancy themselves right little Gryffindors, flauntin' their courage— probably been runnin' their mouths around the castle and had to back it up tonight. That right?"

Sirius nodded slowly. "Snape… Snape dared us to—"

"Of course," McGonagall muttered in exasperation. Eyes fluttering closed, she drew in a long, slow breath and held it for a moment. "Of course. It's always a dare with you, isn't it?" She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a low groan.

"Courage," Lynx spat. He thrust the vial containing the eyeball in James' face. "Honor. Fah! No one cares if you look the fool, Potter!" He turned to rattle the vial under Sirius' nose. "Pull a stunt like this in the _real_ world, Black, and I'll be addin' your remains to my collection. You know what kills Aurors, boys? Rotten luck and idiots." He shoved the vial back into his pocket. "I'd rather deal with the rotten luck."

McGonagall sighed. "Thank you, Professor Lynx," she said firmly. "I'll handle the rest." When Lynx ignored her, McGonagall cleared her throat. "You may _go_, Stuvis."

Lynx's pale eyes honed in on James, who squirmed away from the intense glare. "Sure you don't need me?" Lynx asked gruffly. "I've got a few ideas for suitable punishment."

James and Sirius exchanged fleeting, nervous looks.

"That won't be necessary," McGonagall said, to the boys' great relief. "As their Head of House, it falls to me to set their punishment."

A moment later, and with obvious reluctance, Lynx backed off. He gave McGonagall a curt nod and shuffled from the room. The door closed behind him with a _thud._

James swallowed and stared at McGonagall's shiny black shoes.

"It goes without saying, I hope," she said slowly, "that I am extremely disappointed in the both of you. Never, in all my years, have I had a pair of students as committed to utterly disregarding the rules as you two. The Forbidden Forest! You are incredibly fortunate that we found you when we did! What on earth you were thinking…"

McGonagall quickly settled into her rhythm, berating James and Sirius for their foolhardy expedition and enumerating all the many reasons why they ought not to have done what they did. After a few minutes of this, the excitement of the adventure ebbing away, James stopped listening. It really was quite late, after all, and now all was said and done, he found himself nodding off.

But one thought kept him awake: How had Lynx and McGonagall known to go searching the Forbidden Forest for students that night? Had they seen James and Sirius sneaking out? James doubted it. They'd been far too careful for that to have been the case.

Which meant someone had ratted them out.

_Greasy git,_ James thought bitterly, remembering the self-satisfied smirk on Snape's face when he and Sirius had set the whole thing up. _Can't believe we let him trick us!_

Eventually, McGonagall wound down, detracted fifty house points from each of them, and assigned them a week of detention.

"I will see you both tomorrow after supper," she said. "Now come along. You'd best get to bed, or you'll get another detention tomorrow for sleeping through Charms."

She opened the door, gesturing for James and Sirius to lead the way. They stumbled along the corridor and up a few flights of stairs to the seventh floor landing, where they roused the Fat Lady. She gave James and Sirius a sternly disapproving look (more for McGonagall's sake than anything, James guessed, as the portrait never seemed to care much that they snuck out after curfew every few days).

To James' surprise, the common room wasn't empty when they entered; Remus sat in an armchair by the fire, still fully dressed, hugging his knees to his chest. He looked up, startled, as the portrait swung closed behind the three newcomers, then breathed an almost imperceptible sigh of relief.

"Remus?" Sirius asked, confused.

A significant look passed between Remus and McGonagall, who cleared her throat. "Off to bed with you. You, too, Mr. Lupin. You have class in the morning, remember."

When Remus nodded solemnly – James and Sirius were too busy frowning at their friend to acknowledge McGonagall's order – McGonagall turned and left through the portrait hole. Silence descended in her wake.

Tired though he was, James felt his mind grind into motion as he watched Remus uncurl himself from the armchair and creep toward the stairs.

"Remus," said James.

Remus flinched. His hand gripped the edge of the doorframe; his foot rested on the first step toward the boys' dormitory. He didn't turn as he said, "Yes?"

After a moment's hesitation – _It was Snivellus, _he told himself again, but without conviction this time – he fixed his eyes on the back of Remus' head. "How did McGonagall know we were going down to the forest tonight?"

Silence. Then—

"No…" Sirius glanced from James to Remus, his mouth hanging open. "No, it was Snivellus. _He_ set us up. He probably planned to tell the professors from the start."

"And risk his own neck?" James asked, a cold conviction growing in his stomach like a block of ice. "He'd've known we'd tell the professors about the dare. If he admitted to daring us to sneak out, he'd get in trouble, too."

"Regulus, then," said Sirius. "He's always loved getting me in trouble." But his eyes were on Remus, his voice pleading.

The other boy's shoulders rose in a heavy sigh. He turned, guilt etched in the furrow of his brow, his deep frown, his downcast eyes.

"You told the professors?" James hissed, insides twisting as Remus nodded.

"What the hell, Remus?" Sirius cried, storming across the common room toward the other boy, who cringed and flattened himself against the wall. Sirius towered over him, hands clenched at this side. "We _trusted_ you!"

Remus shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward the stairs, but Sirius clamped a hand on his shoulder and pushed him against the wall. A small sound of pain escaped Remus before he gathered himself to speak. "I'm sorry, Sirius, I just—"

"SAVE IT!" Sirius roared. "Just— _Save it_. I don't want to hear it. You know what you are, Remus?" He jabbed Remus hard in the shoulder, and Remus stumbled to the side, his only escape, shrinking back from Sirius' wrath. "You're a lying—" He jabbed Remus again, steering him away from the dormitory stairs. "—rotten—" Another jab, and Remus stumbled back. "—backstabbing—" _Jab. _Remus fetched up against a crimson sofa. "—_sneak!_"

One last shove sent Remus tumbling over the back of the sofa. He landed on his back, legs sticking up in the air, Sirius glaring down at him.

James crossed to stand beside Sirius, swallowing a lump in his throat as he stared down at Remus' stricken expression. "I thought you were our friend, Remus."

Remus blanched. "I _am_…"

"Then why'd you go to McGonagall?" James asked, letting the hurt leak into his voice. He'd thought Remus was better than that. "We've got a week worth of detention because of you!"

"Detention?" Something flickered in Remus' amber eyes, and a snarl entered his voice. "You got a _detention_? How _awful_." His voice dripped venom as he struggled to right himself. "_Poor James._ He's got _detention_! Not like you haven't had plenty of _those_ before!"

Sirius' wand was in his hand before James could blink. Remus froze as the wand butted up against his nose. "This isn't about the detention_, Lupin_," Sirius growled. "It's about _you_ selling us out. It's about _you_ caring more about the rules than your friends."

"_What?_" Remus shot up so fast Sirius and James both stumbled back. "You could have died out there tonight, Sirius! You could have _died! _Don't tell me I don't care!"

"Don't be thick, Remus," James snapped. "We weren't in any real danger!"

"But—"

Sirius grabbed Remus by the front of the robes. "'But' nothing! We trusted you to keep a secret and you went crying to McGonagall! You're nothing but a pathetic little snitch!" A vicious shove sent Remus crashing into the sofa, which lurched several inches backward; Sirius turned and stormed up the stairs, James a few steps behind.

"James…"

He didn't bother to turn at Remus' feeble call.

"Please, James… I—"

"It's too late, Remus," James said, pausing at the bottom of the stairs before he straightened his shoulders and stumped up toward the dormitory.

Sirius had already drawn the curtains around his bed when James arrived. He changed into his pajamas in silence, his mind on the forest and Remus and the week of detentions awaiting them. He lay awake for a long while, mind spinning in furious circles, vowing never again to trust Remus with a secret. Hours later, when he finally fell into a troubled sleep, Remus still had not returned to the dormitory.


	17. Up in Arms

**Chapter 17: Up in Arms**

Thursday morning came far too early for James' liking. After the debacle in the forest, the lecture from McGonagall, and the row with Remus, James had been unable to settle down enough to sleep for more than a few hours. He woke in a foul mood, snapping at Peter for leaving his robes lying about for people to trip on. Frank Longbottom gave him an odd look at outburst, but James ignored him.

"Where's Peter?" James asked testily when he emerged from the toilets a few minutes later.

"Left," Sirius said, his voice slightly muffled as he struggled with his robes. "Says it's not his fault you're in a temper."

James snorted. "Not his fault my arse. Can't tell me he didn't know Remus was gonna snitch on us." He paused in buttoning his shirt to glance around the room, noticing Remus' absence for the first time. "Where _is_ Remus, anyway?"

A grunt was his only answer, and James gave it up. It was probably for the best, anyhow, as he had no intention of speaking to the other boy for a good long while. Remus could apologize for ratting them out, and then – _maybe_ – James would consider forgiving him. Until then, he would be sure not to tell Remus anything he didn't want the professors knowing.

James and Sirius finished dressing in silence and made their way down to breakfast, where they spotted Peter and Remus sitting together in the thick of a group of third and fourth years discussing a particularly lively duel in the third year Defense class on Tuesday. Peter glanced up as they passed, let out a small squeak, and turned his attention to his porridge. Remus showed no sign of having noticed.

"Prat," Sirius muttered as they took their seats further up the Gryffindor table. "You'd think _we'd _betrayed the little berk."

It seemed Remus had heard this comment, for a dull flush crept up his neck. His eyes, dark with hurt, met James' for a brief moment; an instant later, Remus blanked his face and turned away. He said something to Peter that James didn't catch, dumped his toast on the other boy's plate, and rose. Instead of immediately leaving the Great Hall, however, he stood still for a long moment, indecision playing across his face, then turned and strode purposefully toward James and Sirius.

"What do you want, Lupin?" Sirius demanded, hardly sparing him a glance. James, on the other hand, didn't bother to reign in the glare he shot toward Remus.

Remus faltered, but with a glance back toward Peter, who was now leaning around Davey Gudgeon to see what was happening, Remus squared his shoulders and met James' eyes defiantly. "I just thought I ought to tell you that Peter didn't know I was going to McGonagall last night. If you're going to be a couple of pillocks over this, you might as well have your facts straight."

"That's nice," said Sirius dismissively.

"Just lay off, alright?" Remus grumbled. "He hasn't done anything wrong."

James flashed a cocky smirk. "So you admit you were wrong."

With a scowl, Remus heaved his bag higher on his shoulder. "Whatever you said to Peter this morning's really eating at him," he said tightly. "And I don't like seeing my friends hurt, so—"

"Yeah, yeah," James said, rolling his eyes. "We get it. 'Play nice.'"

"Now bugger off," Sirius added.

Remus obligingly turned on his heel and fled the room, drawing more than a few curious stares. James and Sirius ignored the commotion and turned their attention back to eating, but James didn't miss it when, a few seconds later, Peter stood and scurried after Remus.

-.-.-

Peter joined Remus at the front of the room for Charms that morning, where they sat with Lily Evans and studiously ignored the glares James and Sirius sent their way from the back row. Immediately after class, all three disappeared into the press of second years. James found he didn't mind, and he and Sirius passed a mostly peaceful afternoon in the dormitory playing gobstones on Remus' trunk, taking great care to let the stones squirt their oily contents all over the end of Remus' bed.

They didn't see their estranged friends at lunch or dinner, but James, at least, wasn't really looking. And after dinner, of course, James and Sirius had to trudge up to McGonagall's office for their first detention. Sirius was sent to help Professor Sprout spread dragon dung on a bed of alraune, while James had to polish trophies under Filch's watchful eye.

Several hours later, James set the last Potions Club Member-of-the-Year plaque back on its shelf, rubbed at a crick in his neck, and turned expectantly to Filch. For a moment, the man looked frantically around the room, as though hoping to find some excuse to keep James a few hours longer but, finding nothing, he sighed and sent James on his way. The boy left gratefully, rubbing his right arm, which was sore from scrubbing at spots of dirt for so long.

He met Sirius on the way up to Gryffindor Tower.

"Alright, Sirius?" James asked with a yawn as he fell into step beside his best friend, who smelled strongly of fertilizer and looked as though he had spent the evening rolling in a flowerbed. His normally well-groomed hair stuck up at odd angles, much like James', and his robes were rumpled and crooked.

Sirius shook his head blearily and gave James a lopsided grin. "I hate alraunes."

"Oh?"

"They kept whispering as we worked, so I kept thinking I was in the shower and dumping the dragon dung all over myself."

James tried valiantly not to laugh, but it didn't work. He stumbled up a few steps, clutching his stomach, until Sirius punched him in his sore arm to shut him up.

"Sprout said the dumb plants are still babbling," Sirius when on when James had put on a sufficiently contrite expression. "So I guess the illusions weren't even that strong, but I didn't snap out of it until the dung got in my mouth." He shuddered. "Think I can drop Herbology after this year?"

"Not likely."

Sirius sighed. "Didn't think so. _Pari Passu_," he added to the Fat Lady, who crinkled her nose at the sight of him but swung wide all the same.

Peter, who sat by himself at a table on the far side of the common room, looked up as they entered. His eyes widened, and he glanced once toward the dormitory stairs before sliding low in his seat and watching James and Sirius warily.

Sighing, James walked over to Peter's table.

"Hey, Pete," James yawned, sitting in an empty chair.

Sirius took the seat opposite him. "We heard you didn't know about Remus going to McGonagall."

Peter shook his head emphatically. "I'd never get you in trouble, I swear! Remus was just reading when I went to bed. I didn't know…" His voice trailed off uncertainly.

"S'alright," James said with a weary wave. "I know we can trust _you_."

Smiling in relief, Peter sat a bit straighter in his seat. His smile soon faded, however, as his eyes fell on a book sitting near his left elbow called _Basic Arithmantic Theory_. "McGonagall stopped by after dinner," he said in a small voice. "Remus' mum is sick again."

"Good," said Sirius savagely. "Serves him right."

Peter's jaw dropped. "You don't mean that!"

Sirius squirmed, doggedly avoiding James' glare and Peter's incredulous gape. "Oh, alright," he conceded at last. "Even Lupin doesn't deserve that." He shot a glance over his shoulder to ensure no one was listening in. "What do you say we go out tonight, though— as long as he's away? Once he's back, we'll have to be extra careful."

"We've got Astronomy tonight," Peter reminded them.

With a shrug, James checked his watch. "We've got two hours. We just won't go to Hogsmeade."

"Or the forest?" Peter asked nervously.

"Why?" Sirius' voice was sharp as he peered at Peter suspiciously. "You gonna take a page from Lupin's book and snitch if we do?"

Peter swallowed. "No! And—"

"Relax, Peter," James said, frowning at Sirius. "We know you wouldn't do that. And we won't go down there again so soon. Lynx would have our hides if he caught us there two nights in a row. Besides," he added, as Sirius looked mutinous, "it's freezing out there, and we'll get enough of that in Astronomy."

A moment passed, and then Sirius deflated. "I guess you're right. We can go some other time."

Peter was so relieved at this that he stood at once to leave, ignoring the half-written essay in front of him. "Where to?"

James grinned. "Well, I just spent a few hours cleaning trophies for Filch, and he looked _entirely_ too happy with the results."

"Happy?" Sirius asked dubiously.

"_Filch_?" Peter added.

"When I say _happy_," James amended, chuckling, "what I really mean is he couldn't find anything to complain about. We ought to fix that, don't you think?"

Sirius quirked an eyebrow. "You know you'll just have to clean it all again tomorrow."

"It's worth it to see Filch's face."

Peter rolled his eyes, but Sirius grinned. "Well, if we're ruining your hard work, might as well give the greenhouse the same treatment. I'm already covered in dragon dung, at any rate, and it'll muck up the trophies something awful."

James laughed in agreement, and a few minutes later the three boys ducked out into the deserted corridors, threw the invisibility cloak over their heads, and set off for the ground floor. They took the same passages as the night before and were able to get to the first floor without incident.

Unfortunately, their luck wouldn't hold much longer than that. Just as they emerged from the passage, the sound of voices drifted toward them from around a nearby corner. The secret door shut behind them with a click, and even as James fumbled to find the catch, Professor Slughorn appeared at the end of the corridor, Professor Flitwick scurrying along beside him.

"Is the Headmaster quite sure about this?" Slughorn asked in a long-suffering voice as he fastened the clasp of his cloak.

James pressed himself flush against the wall, grabbing Sirius' and Peter's wrists to pull them back as well.

"You know why we've got to do this, Horace," Professor Flitwick said in a voice that was more solemn than the diminutive man ever sounded in class. "Can't afford to take any chances, can we?"

"I suppose not." Slughorn paused as he and Flitwick passed the three boys crouched under the invisibility cloak. James held his breath. "Still, tomorrow is going to be dreadful."

Flitwick reached up to pat Slughorn on the arm. They turned right into a staircase and started down, Flitwick's high, cheery voice drifting back to James and his friends: "At least we can look forward to the weekend."

A few seconds later, the corridor was once again silent, and James led the way to the stairs, where they paused to listen for any signs of more patrolling professors before hurrying down to the ground floor, along a corridor to the statue of Gregory the Smarmy, and into the small, dark tunnel behind it. This they followed out to the quad, where they made a beeline for the row of dark greenhouses.

Here they met another hurdle in the form of a locked door that couldn't be opened with _Alohomora_, but in a stroke of brilliance, Sirius cast _Dissendium_ to dislodge one of the panes of glass, leaving a hole through which they could wriggle.

In the dark, muggy interior of the greenhouse, the three boys crept toward the flower bed along the far wall, which reeked strongly of dragon dung and a sickly-sweet aroma.

"_Lumos_," James whispered. In the light of his wand, he could see half a dozen large purple flowers, which appeared to be snoring faintly. "Weird…"

"Alraune," Peter said, eyes wide. "They're really, really rare. Mandrake offspring. Only about one in a hundred pairs of mandrakes will actually have kids, and if the alraune sprout too close together, they'll get jealous and strangle each other."

James quirked his eyebrow at Peter. "How'd you know that?"

Turning faintly red, Peter shrugged. "I was looking through our Herbology book with Remus a few weeks ago. Alraune petals are used in a lot of advanced potions."

"You don't say," Sirius muttered sarcastically. "That's _fascinating_, Peter, but can you keep it down? Trust me, you don't want them waking up."

"Sorry."

Although they knew they needed as much dragon dung as they could carry, none of the three had bothered to figure out _how_, precisely to carry a load of dung. A bit of searching turned up a tarp in the corner, which led to a long and heated (though hushed) debate about how to get the dung onto the tarp. In the end, it was agreed, two-to-one, that Sirius would just scoop the dung with his hands, since he was already covered in the stuff.

Once that was done, they dragged their load of dung to the improvised exit and maneuvered themselves and the tarp out of the greenhouse. James quickly repaired the hole they had made, and then they began the long trek back to the quad and the tunnel inside. To speed things along, each boy pointed his wand at a corner of the tarp and muttered, "_Wingardium Leviosa_." Sirius grabbed hold of the remaining corner with his free hand, and they hurried on their way.

They had some difficulty with the secret passage, and realized belatedly that James' invisibility cloak would never cover the three of them and the tarp full of dragon dung, so they decided to simply make a break for the secret passage on the first floor and plan things from there.

Halfway to the passage, they were interrupted by a hiss as Mrs. Norris appeared from a nearby doorway, her eyes glowing in the dimness. The Gryffindors stopped dead.

"Oh, no…" Peter moaned.

Sirius swore under his breath.

James was already dragging them back down the corridor. "Quick— this way! Before Filch gets here!"

There was a moment of confusion during which James, Sirius, and Peter all tried to run different directions and only succeeded in turning themselves around. Mrs. Norris sprang toward them as though to detain them until her master could arrive, and Peter panicked, turning to flee. His levitation charm faltered, leaving his corner of the tarp to fall limp— just as Mrs. Norris passed underneath.

The cat yowled as a deluge of dragon dung swept down on her, burying her in a mountain of smelly black fertilizer that twitched feebly as she struggled to free herself. James and Sirius roared with laughter, which made Peter turn around warily, and he, too, broke into a grin at the sight.

All too soon, pounding footsteps and a shouting voice echoed down a distant staircase. James and Sirius sobered enough to grab Peter, throw the invisibility cloak over themselves, and run full-tilt in the opposite direction. They didn't stop until they had reached Gryffindor Tower, where they dashed at once for their dormitories and stuffed their fists into their mouths to stifle their laughter.

"That was brilliant!" James snickered, stowing his invisibility cloak in his trunk.

"I can't believe we just did that!" Sirius wheezed out. "You couldn't have planned that!"

James nodded emphatically. "Wish we could've stuck around to see Mrs. Norris when she got out." A sudden thought struck him, and he grimaced. "She's gonna be a right nightmare to us from now on."

"Hey!" Sirius whirled around, grinning. "How's that for a name? Mrs. Norris' Nightmares!"

James laughed, but shook his head. "Still on about that, are you?"

Sirius shrugged.

As his laughter died away, Peter bit his lip. "Filch is gonna kill us."

"He doesn't know it was us," James argued. "And he wouldn't suspect you, anyway, so don't worry about it." He rolled over, caught a whiff of the dung that caked Sirius from head to toe, and crinkled his nose. "Ugh. Take a shower, mate. You smell like a troll!"

-.-.-

An hour later, James, Sirius, and Peter joined the rest of their year atop the Astronomy Tower, where an icy wind cut through their winter cloaks and chilled their telescopes to the point that even Lily hesitated to press her eye to the lens. The light of the full moon washed over the grounds, providing more than enough light by which to read their star charts. James wished it had been a cloudy night so at least they wouldn't be able to see anything and could go back inside, where it was warm.

"The moon's really neat when it's full," Peter said as he adjusted his telescope. "It looks so different through a telescope. Too bad Remus never gets to see it."

Sirius shot him an odd look. "What are you talking about?"

Peter blinked a few times before he shrugged. "It's nothing. Just… the last time we had Astronomy the night of a full moon, Remus wasn't there."

James frowned. "He wasn't?"

"Nope. He was sick, or… or maybe his mum was; I don't really remember. It was kind of early last year. It might've been the first time he went to see his mum in St. Mungo's." He paused, staring up at the moon. "And now she's sick again…"

"What are you saying, Pete?" James asked, rolling his eyes as he swung his telescope toward the Pleiades. "Remus' mum is a werewolf?"

Silence.

James turned away from the stars and found Peter looking thoughtful. "What— don't tell me you actually _are_ thinking that?" James scoffed.

Peter blinked. "What? No, of course not."

"Right," James said at once. "It's ridiculous." But he paused, glancing up at the moon. "What do you think, Sirius?"

Sirius scribbled something down on his star chart. "I think that's his mum's business, and I don't want to talk about the rotten little snitch, anyway."

With a shrug, James dropped the subject and turned back to his star chart. Just a few moments later, however, he was distracted once again by movement down on the grounds. Half a dozen small figures moved about in pairs, wands lit and spilling watery light over the grass at their feet. Two pairs were patrolling near the edge of the Forbidden Forest; the third pair hurried off in the direction of the main gate.

"Look at that," he murmured, pointing toward the nearest pair of figures.

Sirius frowned. "The professors?" he asked. "What're they doing?"

"It looks like they're patrolling."

"Maybe Remus was right," said Peter timidly, "and there really _is_ something in the forest."

James didn't have an answer for that, but he remembered the laugh he and Sirius had heard in the silence, the footsteps that had fled when McGonagall and Lynx arrived.

As he watched, the door of Hagrid's hut opened and the groundskeeper, a large, pale dog, and two more professors appeared, silhouetted briefly in the orange firelight from within. Hagrid pulled the door closed a moment later, and the three figures set off toward the forest.

But Professor Ruche soon passed near where they stood, and James quickly busied himself with his star chart. When he next looked up, Hagrid and the professors had disappeared around the curve of the North Tower.

* * *

**A/N: First, a quick note on Moony's Story, since a few people have asked: Yes, there _will_ be updates telling Remus' side of the attack over Christmas and the snitching and other noteworthy events. However, as you may have realized, Remus knows quite a bit more about what's going on here than does James. Being a werewolf isn't the only secret Remus is keeping this year, and I wouldn't want to give too much away before James (finally) figures everything out.**

**In the meantime...  
**

**Friendship, promises, and a discussion of what it means to be a traitor. Chapter 5 of _Wormtail's Story _- "Traitor" - is up!  
**

**When Sirius can't sleep, his thoughts turn to Remus, Mrs. Lupin and... Regulus? Check out chapter 7 of _Padfoot's Story_: "Nagging Thoughts."  
**


	18. Row and Rebellion

**Chapter 18: Row and Rebellion**

In the coming days, James couldn't stop thinking about the professors patrolling the grounds in the middle of the night, the stranger in the forest, and what might have happened if Remus hadn't gone to McGonagall. Peter, at least, seemed convinced that Remus' concerns had some merit, and more than once, he'd nervously pointed out that, after all, Remus had only wanted to protect them. That Remus had landed them in detention still left a bitter taste in James' mouth, but more and more he found his anger giving way to guilt, which only intensified as days passed with no word from Remus.

On Sunday afternoon, James, Sirius, and Peter sat in the common room, attempting to write an essay for Potions. James had got as far as, '_Yarrow is a plant used in loads of potions,'_ before stalling, and he now sat tapping his quill on the table. Sirius' head was propped on his fist as he idly flipped a few pages in his Potions book. Only the scratching of Peter's quill and the _tap-tap-tap_ of James' broke the silence at their table.

Suddenly Sirius groaned and dropped his head onto his book. His voice, slightly muffled, drifted up to them. "I can't do this."

"Yeah," said James in what he intended to be a teasing voice. Instead, it came out sounding thoroughly dejected. "It's just not the same without Remus here to force us to be responsible."

Sirius made a small sound that might have been an agreement.

"You think his mum's alright?" Peter asked, laying down his quill and rubbing his hand. "He's not usually gone this long."

"I'm sure she's fine," James said quickly. "Remus'll be back tonight, probably. He just wanted to spend the whole weekend with her, as long as he was home anyway."

Although Peter nodded, he didn't look convinced.

A moment of silence passed, then James took a deep breath and looked at both his friends in turn. "I think we owe him an apology."

Peter perked up at once. "Really?"

James nodded.

"What for?" Sirius asked, scowling. "_He's_ the one who ought to apologize."

"Peter's right, Sirius. Remus only wanted to protect us."

Something flashed in Sirius' eyes. "He _snitched._"

Rolling his eyes, James settled back on the couch. "I know he did. But we didn't exactly give him any other choice."

"But—!"

"He needs us, Sirius," James said, and Sirius seemed not to have a response for that. James sighed. "Look, you don't have to forgive him straight away, but can't you at least _talk_ to him?"

Sirius frowned. "I'm not promising anything."

There was a note of finality to Sirius' statement and, reluctantly, James returned to his essay. He managed to get a few inches done before dinner, after which he and Sirius trudged off to another detention with Filch— together this time, which James thought was a considerable oversight on the part of the professors. The boys found their spirits lifting as they traded glances and whispers and tried desperately not to laugh aloud whenever Mrs. Norris put in an appearance, her bushy tail held high, her yellow eyes blazing. It was probably James' imagination, but he thought he smelled fertilizer whenever she passed by.

When at last they returned to the common room, it was to see Remus sitting with Peter in their usual corner. Peter was still working on his homework, but Remus looked listless and a bit vague, curled up in an armchair with a cushion hugged to his chest. The dark circles under his eyes had deepened over the weekend; his gaze was dull and distant, as though Remus' mind were still with his mother. He looked out-of-place in the warm, cheery common room, lost and pitiful, and James couldn't muster an ounce of anger. Even Sirius looked somewhat mollified.

Remus gave a start as they dropped onto the sofa opposite him. Slowly his eyes focused on the two dark-haired boys, and his pale face became positively gray. Before James could figure out what to say, Remus bolted for the stairs.

"Wha— Hey!" James spluttered, hastening to follow. "Remus! Wait!"

But Remus had already vanished, and the dormitory door slammed even as James reached the foot of the stairs. By the time James had reached the second years' dormitory, Remus had already drawn the curtains closed around his bed.

Frowning, James crossed toward the bed. "C'mon, Remus. Get your arse— Ow!" James snatched his hand back from the curtains, which spat vicious red sparks at him.

Sirius and Peter appeared in the doorway, frowning, as James shook his stinging hand.

"What happened?" Sirius asked.

James shrugged. "Don't know. Remus put up some sort of jinx around his bed." As he spoke, James felt something stir in his gut, a cold and restless snake that made him feel queasy. Was Remus afraid of him? Was that why he'd run away— because James and Sirius had been so awful to him last week that now he didn't even want to be in the same room as them?

James tried apologizing, but Remus must have put up silencing charms, for he made no response whatsoever. James, Sirius, and Peter exchanged uncomfortable glances, but they could think of nothing else to do except leave Remus alone for the time being. James was the last to retire to his own bed that night, where he lay for a long while staring at Remus' curtains and wishing he'd never ventured out to the Forbidden Forest.

-.-.-

Remus must have woken early the next morning, for by the time James stumbled out of bed at a quarter past seven, the other boy's bed was already empty. When James, Sirius, and Peter entered the Great Hall, they spotted him sitting alone near one end of the Gryffindor table, but upon catching sight of them, Remus hastily excused himself and used a group of incoming Ravenclaws to cover his escape.

All day, Remus turned up to class at the last possible second and sprinted away as soon as the bell rang so as not to give his friends a chance to speak with him. After the last lesson ended, James, Sirius, and Peter split up to search for him.

"Pete, you take the second, third, and fourth floors," James said. "Sirius, fifth floor and up. I'll take the rest. We'll meet in the common room in an hour, and if none of us have found him by then… we'll figure out what to do next."

Nodding, Peter set off for the nearest staircase, and James started in the opposite direction, only to pause when he noticed Sirius hadn't moved.

"Sirius?" James called. Sirius didn't answer. "You alright?"

"Eh?" Sirius shook himself, turned to meet James' concerned gaze, and smiled. "Yeah, fine."

James frowned. "Sure?"

For a moment, it looked like Sirius wanted to say something, but then he shrugged and the pensive look was gone. "Yeah. Fifth floor and up, you said?" Before James could respond, Sirius had turned around and set off down the corridor.

James stared after him, brow furrowed, wondering what had got into him. But as Sirius disappeared around a corner, James refocused on the problem at hand. As Potions had only let out a quarter hour earlier, James decided to scour the dungeons first, although he doubted Remus would have hung around there for long. He stopped by the kitchens, the only place down here that Remus might have actually gone, but the house elves informed him that they hadn't seen anyone since Sirius and James visited two nights prior for a midnight snack.

The ground floor was next, and James spent nearly thirty minutes checking various empty classrooms and avoiding Filch and Mrs. Norris, who both seemed convinced he was up to no good. Then it was on to the first floor, which James searched only halfheartedly before he forced himself to check the Hospital Wing. To his immense relief, the only patient there was a fifth year with an ugly purple rash across her face. Madam Pomfrey scowled at the sight of him lurking in the doorway, and he scurried off before she could berate him for disrupting her patient's healing with his heavy breathing, or something of the like.

By this time, the hour was nearly up, so James steered himself toward the nearest stairs and began the climb back to Gryffindor Tower. He'd only reached the third floor, however, when a murmur of voices caught his attention. Curious, he followed the voices to the library, where a crowd of students stood, speaking in hushed voices, as one rose above them all.

"BRAVE ENOUGH!" roared the voice of Lily Evans, followed by a loud _smack!_ "_Brave _enough? How about _stupid _enough? How about _stark raving mad _enough to show up in the Forbidden Forest in the _middle of the night?_"

_Wait, what?_ James blinked. Was she talking about him? Confused, he hurried forward, wriggling through the press of bodies to get a better view of Lily and whoever she was yelling at.

"What are they going to do next, you reckon?" Lily went on in a slightly crazed voice. "Jump off the Astronomy Tower because Gilderoy said it was _fun_?"

_As if we'd ever jump off the Astronomy Tower…_ James thought to himself. He hesitated._ Well, maybe if we had our brooms…_

"James and Sirius aren't stupid!" It was Remus this time, and James was surprised by how angry he sounded. He wasn't shouting, not quite, but James had so seldom heard the shy boy raise his voice that the hard tone took him by surprise. "And they aren't mad, either!"

A laugh. "Why are you defending them?"

"Because they're my friends!"

James grinned despite himself, and he emerged at the front of the crowd of spectators just as Madam Pince roared, "QUIET!" and released a shower of red sparks from her wand. Everyone in the library fell silent at once; Remus and Lily, who stood on opposite sides of a table, both their chairs pushed back and both a little red in the face, whipped around to face the irate librarian.

"OUT!" Madam Pince shouted, eyes glinting dangerously. "Both of you— out!"

Remus glanced at Madam Pince, then at the gawking crowd who had gathered to watch the row. A furious blush rose in his cheeks, and without wasting another second, he gathered his belongings and sprinted for the door.

Lily gathered her own things stiffly, but James didn't stick around to watch her. Instead, he raced after Remus, who barreled through the crowd, knocking into several students in his haste to put distance between himself and Lily. Halfway to the door, Remus' foot caught on an abandoned schoolbag, and he stumbled, knocking over a chair. Several students snickered; Remus' flush deepened as he hastened onward. James glared venomously at the laughing students as he passed.

"Remus!" James called as he burst into the corridor. He caught sight of his friend vanishing around a corner. "Wait! Remus!" Skidding around the corner, James searched for Remus, but the corridor was empty. _Blimey, he's fast! _James slowed his pace as he glanced at the several doors and corridors that led off of this one, wondering where Remus had gone and how he'd got there so quickly, but then he spotted a portrait of a young man in gray robes, who kept shooting nervous glances at James while pretending to read a book.

Of course.

He'd almost forgot that he'd shown Remus the passage behind that portrait before Christmas, figuring that with as often as Remus went to the library, he might appreciate having use of a more direct route back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Hey!" James called, trotting up to the portrait.

The young man made a show of looking up from his book, as though noticing James for the first time. "Oh! Hello, my good fellow! Something I can help you with?"

At a murmur from the direction of the library, James cringed. "Don't have time to talk today, Bernard," he hissed. "I've got to find my friend before anyone spots me."

"Oh, alright," Bernard huffed. "Quick as a flash, that boy."

"Yeah, yeah, thunder and lightning, or whatever the blinking password is." James glanced over his shoulder. "Just hurry it up, would you?"

Bernard scowled, but obediently swung open, muttering something that sounded like, "Don't have to be so _obvious_ about it." James ignored him and darted into the dim space beyond, tugging the portrait shut behind him.

There was a gasp, and James turned to see a figure sitting against the wall a few feet away. It was hard to see anything in the darkness, but James could hear a faint snuffling and movement that he guessed was Remus wiping his eyes. Deciding not to light his wand, James moved carefully along the tunnel and lowered himself to sit beside Remus, who tensed. Voices drifted in from beyond Bernard's portrait, along with the shuffle of many feet – no doubt the crowd of onlookers from the library dispersing, now that their source of entertainment had gone.

James waited until all was quiet once more before he spoke.

"Thanks."

Remus shifted beside him. "For what?"

"For defending me and Sirius back there," James said. "Even if Evans _was_ kinda right…"

"Oh… You heard that?"

With a chuckle, James shrugged. "Just the last bit. The part where Evans called us stupid and crazy and you said we're still friends."

Remus moaned miserably. "I can't believe I just did that…"

"Call us friends?" James teased.

"No!" Remus cried, alarmed. Then, seeming to realize that James was joking, he hastened on: "Er – no, I meant I can't believe I just had a row with Lily in the library."

"Eh, gave the other students quite the show."

Remus only moaned again.

James sighed. "Don't worry about them, Remus. This'll blow over before you know it."

Remus didn't answer.

After a moment, James turned toward Remus. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he could see Remus sitting beside him, hugging his knees to his chest. "Hey… Remus?" he ventured. "I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Silence.

"You were right," James went on. "About the Forest, about how stupid it was to go out there… The professors were patrolling the next night, you know. And… there was someone out there with me and Sirius."

Remus' head jerked up. "_What?_"

"Yeah…" James chuckled humorlessly. "We thought it was Snape, but when you look at how flighty everyone was afterwards…" He shrugged and dropped his gaze from Remus' face. "It's probably a good thing you went to McGonagall when you did."

After a long silence, Remus cleared his throat. "But you're alright? Nothing happened?"

James shook his head. "McGonagall and Lynx showed up before whoever-it-was could do anything."

"Thank Merlin," Remus breathed, burying his face in his knees. His voice when he next spoke was muffled by the fabric of his robes. "So you're not mad at me anymore?"

Again the guilt rose in his throat, and for a while, all James could do was shake his head. "Of course not," he said thickly when he found his voice. "What about you? Think you can forgive me for being an arse about all this?"

Remus nodded mutely.

They sat in silence for a while, Remus not looking up from his knees, James settling back against the wall and staring at the low ceiling of the tunnel. A few feet away, he spotted the spiral staircase that led up to the seventh floor. As he watched, a spider scuttled across the stone and disappeared into a crack beneath the next step. Nothing else moved in the dim passage.

James nudged Remus with his elbow. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't plan to jump off the Astronomy Tower anytime soon."

Remus let out a weak chuckle and lifted his head. "Make that 'ever,' and it might actually be reassuring."

"Well, if you insist..." James laughed. "I won't ever jump off the Astronomy Tower."

"You swear?" Remus asked playfully.

James nodded. "Oh, yes. Solemnly."

"Alright then." Smiling, Remus stood and brushed off his robes.

James stood as well. "Back to the tower?"

"Er…"

"What?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Remus turned and started toward the stairs. "It's nothing…" He trailed off, but when James reached out to grip his shoulder, he sighed. "I just… Well, there were so many people in the library. I'm sure the story's got back to the common room by now, and…"

James gave Remus' shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Gotcha. Don't worry, Remus. I'll run up and get the invisibility cloak for you."

"What?" Remus asked, surprised. "Oh, no, you don't have to—"

"Yes, I do." James rolled his eyes. "Can you imagine if Bertha Jorkins spotted you after that row?" He shuddered. "It'll take five minutes."

"But—"

James shot Remus a bemused look.

"Alright, fine, do whatever you want." Remus sighed. "Not like you won't anyway."

A few minutes later, they arrived at a brick wall. James lit his wand to find the brick near the center that was off-color, which he prodded with his wand. He then tapped the bricks above and to either side of the off-color brick, and a handle appeared.

"I'll be right back," James said before he slipped out into the corridor and jogged to the Grand Staircase, where the Fat Lady's portrait hung. "_Tabula rasa_."

As soon as the portrait swung open, James was glad he'd convinced Remus to wait for the invisibility cloak. It seemed as though half of Gryffindor had gathered in the common room to gossip about what had happened in the library. Alice Howard, a compact brunette in second year, blocked the stairs to the girls' dormitory, shouting at the crowd gathered around her to leave Lily alone. ("If you're so desperate for someone to gossip about, I'd be happy to show you lot some of my better hexes!" she added, brandishing her wand threateningly.)

James snickered into his hand and made his way through the press of bodies to his dormitory, where he found Sirius pacing and Peter sitting on his trunk, kicking his heels against the side. Both boys looked up hopefully as James entered the room.

"No luck?" Sirius asked. "I thought maybe—"

"Actually," said James, throwing open his trunk. "I did find him."

Sirius glanced toward the empty stairwell. "You did? Where is he?"

"Er… well…" Finding his invisibility cloak, James pulled it out and shut the lid of the trunk. "He had a bit of a tiff with Evans in the library."

"What?" asked Peter. "But when I saw her, she told me Remus had already left."

"Then she lied." James shrugged. "Because he was there… right up until Madam Pince tossed him out."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Tossed him out? _Remus?_"

"Yep."

"_Why?_" asked Peter, surprised.

Grinning, James stood up and turned to face his friends. "Because he was defending us."

For a few moments, Peter and Sirius stared at him, confused. Then Sirius frowned. "Really?"

"Of course. Evans was going on about how stupid and crazy we are – me and Sirius, that is – and Remus decided to set her straight. They were shouting and everything, and half the school was watching."

Sirius looked impressed "Brill!" He paused, frowning again. "But… Where is he now?"

"Hiding," said James. "I had to get the cloak." He held it up for them to see before tucking it in his pocket. "So Bertha and her friends don't bother him. Let's go."

He led the way out of the dormitory, down the stairs, and out into the corridor. When they reached the secret passage, James tapped out the pattern and turned the handle that appeared. Remus, who had sat down against the wall, opened his mouth as the door swung inward, but his words died in a small, nervous squeak when he caught sight of Sirius. The two boys stared awkwardly at one another, Sirius hovering on the threshold, Remus looking like he wanted nothing more than to run the opposite direction.

Sighing, James pulled Sirius into the passage so the door could shut, then moved to block Remus' only remaining escape route. Remus, Sirius, and Peter watched James silently, then reluctantly faced each other. A moment later, Remus and Sirius simultaneously began to speak.

"I shouldn't have—"

"So I heard you—"

They both stopped and smiled nervously.

"You first," said Sirius.

Nodding, Remus turned his gaze to the floor by his left trainer and worried his lip. "I shouldn't have gone to McGonagall like that. Well… no… I'm glad I did, because James said you saw someone else out there, and if the professors didn't turn up, you might have been hurt…" He paused, frowning. Shaking his head, he began again. "But I shouldn't have got you in trouble, and I'm sorry. I was just scared, and you weren't listening to me when I tried to warn you, and I— I didn't know what to do. I-I'm sorry…" He buried his face in his knees. "I'm sorry."

"Er— That's alright, mate," Sirius said, scratching the back of his head. "Detention's a sight better than death, I suppose."

Remus glanced up hopefully, and Sirius smiled guiltily.

"Besides," he went on, "James here says you stuck up for us in the library just now, so… er… we're square." He paused. "Right?"

With a shy smile, Remus nodded.

James nodded in satisfaction. "Everyone alright, then? We all friends again?" There was a round of nods, and James beamed. "Spiffing. Can I just say one more thing?"

"Like you need our go-ahead," Sirius muttered.

James ignored him. "I think we can all agree that we don't ever want to repeat this little… spat."

"I sure don't," said Peter timidly, even as Sirius said, "Hell no." Remus merely shook his head.

"Right," said James. "So. Er…" He paused, trying to find a way to put his idea into words. "I think we need to pay more attention when one of us says we shouldn't go somewhere or do something. How about we agree that if any of us really thinks a plan is dangerous—"

"And by dangerous," Sirius interrupted, "what you really mean is life-threatening, right?"

James frowned. "Er, sure. Right."

"Cause we know that any given afternoon we might land ourselves in detention or get into a duel with some Slytherins. That isn't danger. That's a calculated risk. Makes things more fun."

As he spoke, Sirius watched Remus warily. The scarred boy looked uncomfortable, but then he sighed and nodded. "I guess that's your choice. But what if you're risking expulsion?"

James mulled his over before responding. "You can warn _us _about it, but you can't go to the professors, or we really _will_ get expelled. But anyway…" He paused to gather his thoughts. "Right. So if one of us thinks that what we're planning is really, life-threateningly dangerous, we have to hear him out. And as long as it isn't completely crazy, we call off whatever we had planned. No arguments."

"But…" Sirius began, but he trailed off quickly, and James suspected he was only objecting to be difficult. A moment later, Sirius nodded. "Alright, fine."

Grinning, James turned to Peter. "Agreed?"

"Agreed."

James didn't have to ask Remus, who was staring at him slack-jawed. "Alright, then. It's agreed."

There was an awkward silence, which Sirius broke with a huff. "You know, if we had a _name_, we could make this official."

"Sirius…" James groaned, rolling his eyes.

"What? I'm just saying, this could be a… I don't know, a Gryffindor Oath or something."

"Can't we just promise?" Peter asked with a frown.

Sirius shook his head. "Promises can be broken. We need something better than a promise. Something that the four of us know means we won't ever go back on our word."

"Well when we come up with a name, that'll be our first order of business," James said. "And we'll make this promise official then, but for now, we'll just swear…" He shook his head and grinned at Remus. "No, we'll _solemnly _swear to listen to each other when someone says we shouldn't do something."

Remus let out a tremulous laugh. "Does that mean our first 'Gryffindor Oath' is to not jump off the Astronomy Tower?"

As Peter and Sirius exchanged bewildered glances, James gave a hearty laugh. "I think it does, Remus. We'll have to make that one official, too."

"Absolutely," said Remus.

Shrugging, Sirius said, "I'll start, then, shall I?" He stood up a little straighter, placed his hand over his heart, and went on with excessive formality. "I solemnly swear that I shall never ever jump off the Astronomy Tower." He paused as his friends stifled their laughter. "And I solemnly swear to always listen to my friends."

"I do so solemnly swear," James said, mimicking Sirius' dignified posture.

Once Peter and Remus had repeated the sentiment (with broad grins and a stream of giggles that completely ruined the mood), James nodded. "Well, then. That settles it. Shall we?"

He reached out to help Remus to his feet and handed over the invisibility cloak, which Remus gratefully swung over his head. Together, the four boys made their way back to the common room, where the crowd of curious Gryffindors had finally given up on getting past Alice to pester Lily. Two dozen heads swung toward the portrait hole as James and his friends stepped through, and James could hear Remus' sharp intake of breath behind him.

"What're you lot staring at?" Sirius snapped, causing most of the other students to turn away at once. The four boys made a break for the stairs and sprinted up to their dormitory, where Remus returned the invisibility cloak to James and flopped face-down on his bed.

Sirius sat down beside Remus and patted him on the head. "Nice one, Rems. You're the talk of the school… again. Honestly, at this rate, you'll be more famous than me and James."

Moaning, Remus pulled his pillow over his head.

"You know," said James thoughtfully, tossing the cloak back into his trunk. "There _is_ one way to get them to lay off."

"What's that?" Remus asked, his voice muffled.

James grinned. "We give them something else to talk about."

A mischievous glint entered Sirius' eyes, and he crossed at once to James' bed. "A prank?" he asked eagerly. "Got something in mind?"

"Nothing in particular. Where's that list you made last summer? There's got to be something we haven't done yet."

While Sirius went to dig through the heaps of parchment on his desk, James and Peter settled down on James' bed. Not finding his list on his desk, Sirius began throwing open drawers and rooting through them, then dropped to the floor to search under his bed. There was a muffled _thump_ and Sirius yelped in pain; Remus sat up to see what was going on.

Sirius emerged from under his bed, rubbing his head and clutching a rumpled sheet of parchment. "Found it," he said.

Remus arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Alright, mate?" James teased as Sirius joined him and Peter on the bed. "The big bad bed didn't hurt you, did it?" Sirius glared at him, and James beamed back. "So! What've we got here?" He grabbed a quill from his desk and began to tick off the pranks they had already pulled, chuckling occasionally as he remembered some of their more entertaining adventures. By the time he had finished, only three items remained on the list.

Sirius frowned. "Well, we never could get the incantation down for the permanent sticking charm, so that one's out."

"And I still don't know where we'd find three nifflers," James added. "So that leaves…" He ran his finger down the list until he found what he was looking for. He scowled. "Urg, I dunno. It's cold enough outside. I'm not sure we want to pull that one now."

"So what, then?" Peter asked.

Shrugging, Sirius tossed the parchment aside. "We start from scratch."

"Um…"

James' head snapped up in surprise. Remus stood beside the bed shuffling his feet.

"Remus?" Peter asked.

"You're… You're planning a prank, right?" Remus asked softly, a faint pink tinge creeping up his neck.

Sirius eyed Remus warily. "Yeah… Why?"

"Well…" Remus began, blush spreading to his cheeks. "I was wondering if, um… If I could— maybe… help?"

Eyebrows shooting skyward, James glanced at Peter, who stared back wide-eyed, and Sirius, whose jaw had gone slack.

"Y-you want _in_?" Sirius spluttered. "_You_? In on a _prank_? Has the whole world gone _mad_?"

Remus was, by this time, as red as the bed hangings. "Er… no— I mean, yes, I… I want in."

Laughing, James reached out and grabbed Remus' arm. "Don't look so nervous, mate," he said, pulling Remus down onto the bed beside him. "Of course you can join! Why the sudden change of heart?"

"I dunno," Remus murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I'm curious why you like it so much." He offered a timid shrug. "Or maybe I'm just feeling a little reckless."

With a hearty laugh, Sirius clapped Remus on the back. "Well, then, we'll have to make this an extra special prank. Y'know, since it's your first one and all." Smirking, he snatched a fresh sheet of parchment from James' desk, flicked his wand to draw the curtains closed around the bed, and muttered, "_Lumos_."

The soft wandlight danced across the parchment as James took it from Sirius and began to write. "It's got to be big," he said. "I'm thinking breakfast…"

"So something for the whole school," Sirius said, tapping his chin. "Something fun. A little bit of chaos."

"Hitting all the Houses?" Peter asked.

Sirius grinned. "And maybe a little something extra for the Slytherins."

"But what?" James asked. He turned to Remus. "What do you think?"

Remus jumped. "_Me_?"

"Sure. It's your first prank; you ought to have a say in what we do."

For the next several seconds, Remus sat in silence, brow furrowed in thought. "Well," he said at last, hesitantly. "I might have an idea. I don't know whether it's any good…"

Sirius waved this off. "Eh, we've all had dud ideas. Most of the time, it just takes a little tweaking." He gestured around the circle. "That's why we've got each other."

"We won't laugh," Peter assured him. "And I'm sure your idea'll be better than any of mine, anyway."

"Well… alright." Remus hesitated. "You said you wanted a little chaos…"

As Remus explained his idea, the other three boys leaned in eagerly, nodding encouragingly whenever Remus hesitated. Sirius took to the plan at once, tossing out a few more suggestions (some more feasible than others), and Remus visibly relaxed when he realized he wasn't going to be jeered out of the dormitory. Soon enough, James was scribbling away madly at his parchment, taking down notes and listing everything they would have to do to prepare. The four boys, sitting knee-to-knee in the flickering wandlight, traded excited grins as their plan came together.

* * *

**A/N: She's always been curious, so with all the rumors floating around the school, Lily just _had_ to find out the truth. _Lily's Story_, chapter 4: "Friends Like Them."  
**


	19. A Theory

**Chapter 19: A Theory**

A week passed before they were ready to set their plan into motion. James had almost expected Remus to back out before the day finally came, but he didn't. If anything, he seemed to grow more excited about the prank with every day, until he could hardly talk about anything else (only when they were alone, of course; Remus was smart enough to know that talking about that sort of thing in public was _begging_ for detention).

Their prank required more than a little help from the house elves, but after a year and a half of sneaking down to the kitchens, James and his friends were on excellent terms with a number of the small creatures. In just a few minutes, James had managed to find half a dozen eager to help out.

While James was talking to the house elves, Sirius set to work practicing a new spell they'd found in their Charms book, and Peter and Remus searched the library for the other spell they would need. It was Remus who found it on Thursday afternoon: _Locomotor._ He and James spent the whole weekend practicing. Quite aside from its role in the prank, Remus seemed to relish the chance to learn an advanced spell.

The prank was planned for Wednesday morning and so, late Tuesday night, the four second years made their way down the silent staircases, darting in and out of secret passages. The invisibility cloak wasn't quite large enough to cover all of them, so James and Sirius left it to Peter and Remus, who were both considerably less accustomed to wandering about in the dead of night and thus were more nervous about being caught.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," said Remus' voice from the empty air between James and Sirius as they trekked through a passage leading from the fourth floor to the second. Remus gave a nervous laugh. "I'm breaking curfew for a prank!"

Sirius opened the portrait that marked the end of the passage and peered out into the corridor. "All clear," he whispered. "Having second thoughts, Remus?"

"No." Remus paused. "I probably should be, but… No."

"Aha!" cried James, earning twin shushes from under the invisibility cloak. He pointed his finger at the air where Remus ought to be. "We'll make a prankster of you yet!"

Remus chuckled.

They parted ways in the Entrance Hall. Remus and Peter continued on with the cloak, bound for the kitchens, where they were meeting up with Trimsy the house elf to set up their part of the prank. James and Sirius ducked into the Great Hall, where they spent a few frantic minutes enchanting the House banners and the four long House tables.

Remus and Peter tapped out a code on the door to signal their return just as Sirius and James finished their work, and the four boys hastened back to their dormitory before the professors could catch them out of bed.

-.-.-

"You've got to act innocent," Sirius said in a low voice as they entered the Great Hall the next morning for breakfast.

Remus nodded. "Got it."

"Act surprised, but not _too_ surprised. And if McGonagall asks you what happened, just say, 'I don't know.' Don't start babbling, 'cause McGonagall will know straight off that you did it."

"Speaking from experience there, Sirius?" James teased.

Sirius scowled. "Yes. We got three detentions the first month of last year because you started prattling off our alibis before McGonagall had even asked us any questions."

"Says the bloke who wanted to _literally_ sign our names when we were pulling our very first prank," James shot back.

"Forgot about that." Sirius pointed an accusing finger at Remus. "No signing names."

Remus looked affronted. "_Some_ of us are smart enough not to leave that kind of evidence, you know."

Roaring with laughter, James scanned the Gryffindor table for four open seats. Finding a good spot near the middle, James sat down and piled his plate with food. The other students slowly trickled in and finally, when the Hall was full and everyone was fully engrossed in food and conversation, James gave the signal.

Sirius gave his wand a sharp flick, and the first charm activated. Surreptitiously raising his eyes to the House banners lining the walls, James watched as the colors rippled and began to change. The Gryffindor lion, once gold on crimson, was now sooty black on blue; the badger of Hufflpuff became burnished bronze on red. On the opposite wall, behind James, where he dared not risk looking, the Ravenclaw eagle would be turning gold on a sunshine yellow background. And Slytherin's banner ought to be turning the ugliest shade of puke green imaginable.

James scanned the assembled students and professors. None of them seemed to have noticed a thing. The four boys shared a fleeting, charged smile before Sirius schooled his expression and asked Remus casually whether he could pass the porridge. Remus and Peter took the hint and refocused on their meals.

"_Locomotor tables_," James whispered. And then, even as the bench beneath him rose jerkily into the air, James shoved his wand up his sleeve and reached for a goblet of pumpkin juice, which he promptly slopped down the front of his robes, if only so he would have cause to swear aloud.

Across from him, Peter let out a startled yelp and Remus frantically clutched at the table to keep from toppling off his seat. James doubted either of them had had to fake their reactions; his _Locomotor_ charm hadn't been nearly as smooth as he'd intended, and half the Hall was in danger of losing their seat.

But the crude charmwork did its job. The Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff House tables, which James and Sirius had _Diffindo_-ed into a dozen sections each the night before, performed a kind of tango in midair, realigned themselves into three new tables, and settled back to the floor. The sections of the Slytherin table, meanwhile, shot off through the doors to the Entrance Hall and disappeared from sight.

And then, right on cue, the next charm came into effect. The previous night, the house elves had replaced every student's robes with the set Remus and Peter had delivered, which had been enchanted with a time-delayed transfiguration, and now the changes began. The red, blue, and yellow trim became a wide variety of colors, from orange to purple to aquamarine, and each House crest became the Hogwarts crest instead. In the space of a few seconds, all distinctions between Houses had vanished.

James found himself sitting beside Edgar Bones of Hufflepuff, whose robe trim had turned a cheery buttercup yellow. A few seats away, James spotted several Ravenclaws, including Marlene McKinnon, who was scowling at her new pink-trimmed robes, and Xenophilius Lovegood, who seemed quite happy with the lime green of his.

The professors had risen by this time and begun to make their way toward the scrambled student body— but not before Remus delivered the grand finale. With a flash of green flame, a scroll of parchment appeared before each student.

Feigning innocent curiosity, James picked up his scroll and opened it. Inside, in very formal script (courtesy of a Scribe Quill James had purchased in Hogsmeade), James found his new timetable: Transfigurations with Professor Sprout, followed by Astronomy with McGonagall, and finally a double period of Divination with the Headmaster.

"Well that ought to be interesting," James chuckled, then leaned over to check his timetable against Sirius'. The other boy appeared to have drawn Potions with Professor Kettleburn and double Defense with Professor Flitwick.

Sirius and Peter had spent the past several evenings drawing up a fictitious timetable for the day, sorting students at random, without regard for House or year. And, of course, no professor would be permitted to teach their usual subject. James saw that Remus had even been courteous enough to deliver revised timetables to the professors themselves.

McGonagall hardly spared her timetable a glance as she marched up to James and Sirius, a frown creasing her brow.

"Are you truly this desperate for another detention, Potter, Black?"

"What?" James asked dumbly.

Sirius looked just as confused. "What do you mean, Professor?"

"How many pranksters do you suppose this school has?" McGonagall asked wearily. "When something of this sort happens, I find it usually comes back to the two of you."

James tried to look indignant. "So you're just going to assume we're guilty?"

"Without any proof or _anything_?" Sirius added, looking rather like a puppy that had just been kicked. "That hardly seems fair."

"You're right, Mr. Black," McGonagall said. "I couldn't possibly punish you without some sort of proof." She paused, and James felt the warm glow of triumph blossom in the pit of his stomach.

It didn't last long.

She eyed James' robes, which were trimmed in an odd reddish brown. "These robes… They appear to have been transfigured prior to this morning's mischief, and I find myself wondering how you managed to distribute them to the entire school. I don't suppose you had any assistance from the house elves?"

James hoped his unease didn't show on his face as McGonagall stared him down. "I really don't know what you're talking about, Professor."

McGonagall's gaze didn't waver. "Indeed. You won't mind, then, if I check with the elf in charge of laundry delivery last night. Trimsy!"

James' heart sank even lower as the short, bug-eyed creature appeared with a small _pop_, bowing so low his floppy ears swept the ground. "What can Trimsy do for Mistress?"

"I have a question for you, Trimsy, if you don't mind."

Trimsy sent James a curious sort of look, but he nodded all the same. "Of course. Trimsy is happy to answer all of Mistress's questions."

James' heart drummed in his chest, and his thoughts drifted to Sirius and Peter and Remus, wondering if any of their faces showed their guilt. He forced himself not to look, however, but rather to watch McGonagall and Trimsy, his expression mildly curious. It was futile, he knew; they would be found out now, as soon as McGonagall asked who had delivered the modified robes. And not just James and Sirius, but Peter and Remus, as well. Perhaps James ought to turn himself in and save the others a detention or two.

It seemed James wasn't the only one thinking such thoughts, however, and before James could find his voice, Remus stood up.

"Mr. Lupin?" McGonagall asked, mild surprise showing on her face. "Do you have something to say?"

Remus nodded, not meeting McGoangall's gaze. "It was me, Professor."

McGonagall's immediate response was to stare, flabbergasted, at the shamefaced boy before her. A moment of silence followed, during which James could have stepped in, but when he opened his mouth, Remus caught his eye and gave a minute shake of his head. The determined look in his eye told James, quite clearly, to let Remus do the talking, and James, taken aback by this daring new side to his friend, obediently held his tongue.

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about, Mr. Lupin?" McGonagall asked at length. "Surely you don't mean to say _you_ did all this?"

"I did," Remus said levelly. "I transfigured the robes and learned _Locomotor_ to move the tables. I drew up a load of rubbish timetables to give to everyone, too." He nodded to the scroll of parchment that sat, untouched, by his goblet.

McGonagall seemed taken aback. "You… But Mr. Lupin, surely…"

"You can even ask Trimsy," said Remus, and James barely held in a gasp as he realized what Remus must be planning. Remus smiled kindly at the house elf. "It's alright, Trimsy. You can tell Professor McGonagall the truth. I gave you the robes to deliver last night, didn't I?"

Trimsy stared at Remus with wide eyes – as did James, who no longer had to pretend to be utterly shocked by what he was witnessing. Slowly, Trimsy nodded. "Y-yes, sir. Master Remus gave Trimsy the robes."

McGonagall stared at the creature as though he had just told her the Giant Squid had taken up ballet.

Remus smiled wanly. "Thank you, Trimsy. I think you can go now."

Nodding, Trimsy disappeared.

Several more seconds passed before McGonagall collected herself, during which time Remus adopted a suitably remorseful expression. James thought he saw the other boy's hands shaking, but Remus quickly clasped them behind his back.

McGonagall cleared her throat. "Mr. Lupin… If I may ask, what on _earth_ possessed you to do something like this?"

"I'm sorry, Professor," Remus said, sounding so miserable James almost put an end to the whole charade right then. But Remus hastened on. "It's just… I thought it might be nice to get to know the other Houses. We only have a couple of mixed classes, a-and I thought, maybe, if I muddled up the tables, it might help…" He trailed off, voice quivering, and James was left in awe. Who would have guessed that the rule-loving prefect-in-the-making had the pluck to lie straight to a professor's face?

Some of the sternness had gone from McGonagall's face, but her eyes drifted toward the doors, where a handful of irritated and confused Slytherins had appeared. "And the Slytherins, Mr. Lupin?"

Remus hesitated. "I-I must have botched the spell. I didn't mean to send them out of the Hall! They were supposed to get mixed in with everyone else. But I only learned _Locomotor_ last week, and I'd never targeted so many things at once, and— and—" Remus broke off, looking close to tears, and even James couldn't be sure whether he was faking or not.

"Mr. Lupin," McGonagall said, shaking her head. "I understand you meant well, but you must realize you broke several school rules with this scheme of yours. Someone might have been hurt! I really expected better of you."

Remus flinched. "…I understand. I'm sorry."

McGonagall sighed. "Go and wait in my office," she said gently. "We'll discuss this further in private, once I've sorted things out in here."

Nodding, Remus grabbed his schoolbag and left the Great Hall without so much as a glance at James, Sirius, or Peter.

When he had gone, it took several minutes more for the professors to rearrange the House tables (and to retrieve the Slytherin table from the back corridor where it had landed), to fix the students' robes and the House banners, and to assure everyone that the revised timetables were not, in fact, accurate.

But then, at last, James and his friends were free to leave. As soon as they reached the privacy of a secret passage, they could restrain themselves no longer.

"That. Was. _Brilliant!_" James cried, running a hand through his hair. "Can you believe it?"

"Our little Remus," Sirius said fondly, grinning broadly. "He's a natural-born prankster!"

Even Peter looked awestruck by Remus' performance. "How'd he come up with all that?"

James shook his head, deciding they would have to ask Remus as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

-.-.-

Remus turned up ten minutes into Potions, earning himself a number of incredulous stares from the other Gryffindors in the room. The Slytherins eyed him oddly, but unlike the professors, they seemed to realize that Remus hadn't acted alone. As such, most of the glares were directed at James and Sirius. (This was fortunate, James thought, for he didn't want Remus taking the Slytherin's wrath on himself, as well as McGonagall's.)

As soon as Remus took his place beside Peter, the mousy boy let loose a torrent of hushed praise, at which Remus' face turned steadily pinker. Chuckling, James pulled out a scrap of parchment and scribbled down a note: _That was brilliant at breakfast, Remus! Real clever to spin it like that. McGonagall didn't go too hard on you, did she?_

Sirius snatched the parchment away as soon as James had finished. _You know what you are, Rems? Bloody amazing, that's what. We owe you one!_

Setting down his quill, Sirius crumpled the parchment into a loose ball, glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and lobbed the note to Remus, who glanced over in surprise. James and Sirius grinned and gestured to the note. Remus opened it warily. As he read, his flush deepened, which of course only made James smile broader. Remus looked nervously to Slughorn, who was chatting amicably with Lily Evans and Severus Snape at the front of the room. Biting his lip, Remus wrote a short response and tossed the note back to James and Sirius.

_It was nothing. Professor McGonagall just gave me a detention for tomorrow._

James shot Remus a commiserating grimace and mouthed, "Sorry," but Remus only shook his head.

Sirius took up his quill again and wrote, _Kitchens after class. We'll celebrate. Tell Peter._

After reading the note, Remus nodded and handed the parchment to Peter, who grinned excitedly and tucked the note into his pocket before Slughorn could spot it.

Half an hour later, when Potions let out, James and Sirius each slung an arm around Remus' shoulder and, with Peter scurrying along behind, they slipped away from the other second years and made their way to the kitchen.

"Sirs!" cried Trimsy as they entered. The elf hurried over, wringing his hands and staring at Remus with teary brown eyes. "Trimsy is so sorry, sir, so, so sorry! He never meant to get Master Remus, sir, in trouble! Oh, no, never! Trimsy swears it!"

"It's alright, Trimsy," Remus said, bending to place a comforting hand on the house elf's shoulder. The distraught elf jumped at the gesture and openly gaped at Remus, who smiled. "I knew what I was doing."

James clapped Remus on the back. "Yep. Noble, self-sacrificing prat he is, he decided to take the fall for us." He beamed. "I think this calls for a bite of cake— chocolate, of course!"

"Yes, sirs!" Trimsy replied eagerly. "Trimsy will get sirs the biggest chocolate cake they has ever seen!"

Remus looked slightly nervous at this proclamation, but with a resigned sigh, he took a seat at the small, round table the house elves hastened to set for four. James, Sirius, and Peter joined him a moment later and complimented him heartily on the morning's performance.

"How'd you come up with that story?" James asked after a time. The cake had arrived within a few moments of Trimsy's departure, and Remus had developed a marked fascination with the treat as his friends heaped praises on him. But at James' question, Remus finally looked up.

"I dunno." He shrugged.

Sirius laughed. "Spoken like a true prankster!"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Oh, be quiet."

"Probably a good thing he didn't listen to your advice, though," James pointed out.

"Oi!" Sirius pouted. "My advice was brilliant!"

"Sure it was."

With a sigh, Peter served himself another generous slice of cake. "But really, Remus. That story was brilliant! Did you just make it up as you went?"

"Er… no," Remus said. "I was… Well, I was nervous last night, and I couldn't fall asleep because I kept thinking about getting caught, so I sort of… thought up an excuse that might get us off the hook. Although," he grinned sheepishly, "I doubt it would have gone over so well if McGonagall thought I'd had help from you lot."

"Probably not," said James.

Sirius laughed. "Definitely not. But it was convincing coming from you, at any rate. I never would've thought you could lie like that."

"Well, I've had a lot of practice." As soon as the words were out, James saw a shadow flicker across Remus' face. His smile seemed suddenly strained.

Sirius, too, seemed to notice the change, and he frowned thoughtfully.

"But why'd you turn yourself in?" Peter asked before the silence could grow awkward.

Dropping his gaze, Remus pushed his cake around his plate with his fork. "She was about to ask Trimsy who was responsible. We'd have all been caught. I figured if I turned myself in, the rest of you might get off. It wasn't really a difficult choice."

Sirius shoved a forkful of frosting into his mouth. "Well, at any rate," he said, "I say that was a right swell thing to do. And I meant it when I said we owe you one. You name it; anything you want."

"Oh, no, that's alright," Remus said quickly. "You don't have to—"

"Don't be thick." Sirius swallowed his frosting and beamed. "We aren't doing it because we have to. We're doing it for the same reason you turned yourself in— we're friends."

Remus grinned.

"So…" James wiped a smear of frosting from his plate. "McGongall wasn't too harsh, was she?"

"It wasn't _so_ bad," Remus said. "I think she was still in shock that it was _me_." He grinned guiltily. "Kept rubbing her head and staring at me like she expected me to turn into a boggart or something."

"Poor McGonagall," James teased. "We're gonna drive her batty one of these days!"

A familiar grin spread across Sirius' features. "You don't think…"

"We are _not_ going to make it our mission to land our Head of House in St. Mungo's," Remus said sternly.

Sirius pouted. "I wasn't going to suggest anything of the sort, Remus! I don't want to make McGonagall mad! Just… give her a headache every now and then. We'll be known throughout the school as McGonagall's Migraine!"

James and Peter chuckled, and after a second, Remus dissolved into a fit of giggles. "The sad thing," Remus said, when he had caught his breath and smothered his smile, "is you're probably right. But we aren't making that our name."

"Aw, c'mon!" Sirius protested, but Remus stubbornly shook his head.

"That's alright, mate," said James, smirking at Remus. "We're getting there. A month ago, he would have just called you an idiot and told you to stuff it. He's started to warm up to the idea now."

After a moment of struggling to maintain his scowl, Remus gave in and grinned. "Maybe I am."

Sirius was so delighted he called for a round of apple fritters, and the four boys devoured so many sweets in the next quarter hour that they almost didn't bother to turn up for lunch in the Great Hall.

-.-.-

The coming weeks were relatively quiet for the four Gryffindors. With McGonagall keeping a close eye on them, they held off on the next big prank, although James and Sirius managed to find spare moments for a few minor tricks for the Slytherins, especially Snape and Regulus. But Remus and Peter ventured nothing more daring than a few midnight secret passage hunts— something Remus had begun to take considerable interest in, despite breaking curfew to do so.

Remus served his detention on Saturday morning without a word of complaint, and when he returned, he even joined the others on an outing to Hogsmeade. They returned to the castle before sundown, since out of bounds _and_ past curfew proved too large a step for Remus to take so soon. Oddly, James found he didn't mind humoring Remus, who was much more lax about the rules lately, on the whole. The quiet boy had come a long way in recent months, and James rather thought he deserved some time to adjust to his newfound rebelliousness.

Business at Hogwarts slowly returned to normal. March brought with it anticipation for the next Quidditch match— Slytherin against Ravenclaw. Sirius decided the day of the match, the seventeenth, would be a perfect day for their next prank. Slytherin, after all, was known for playing dirty, and all of Gryffindor agreed they'd rather go up against Ravenclaw for the Cup. No one but a few snakes would complain if they had a bit of fun with the Slytherin team before the match.

"What do you say, Remus?" James asked a week and a half before the match, as the four of them situated themselves in their favorite corner of the common room. "You in?"

Remus looked suddenly uncomfortable. "Oh, er… I can't."

"What?" Sirius asked. "How come?"

"My cousin's getting married on the seventeenth," Remus explained, shoving his hands into his pockets. "He's asked me to be in the wedding, and Professor McGonagall gave me permission to go, since it's a weekend and I won't have to miss class. My mum's coming to get me on Friday, and I won't be back until suppertime on Sunday."

"Oh." James shrugged. "Sounds fun. I mean, it's a shame you'll miss the prank— and Quidditch! —but at least you'll get to see your mum when she isn't sick for a change, right?"

Remus smiled weakly. "Yeah, I guess." He said no more about the wedding and quickly turned the conversation toward Lynx's latest challenge for the third years, the Imperturbable Charm, which not only soundproofed a room, but also prevented anyone or anything from approaching. Remus pointed out that it would help with keeping their prank planning sessions secret, but James argued that there were far easier ways to do the same thing, and that the Imperturbable Charm wasn't worth the effort. He, Remus, and Peter cheerfully discussed privacy measures for the next several minutes.

The whole time, Sirius remained oddly silent. He avoided James' questioning glances and answered questions with indistinct grunts, and it wasn't until he and James had to leave for Quidditch practice that he came out of his reverie enough to discuss Gryffindor's next match against Hufflepuff.

-.-.-

"What's with you lately?" James demanded.

It was Friday the sixteenth, and Remus had just left Gryffindor Tower to meet his mother in McGonagall's office. Peter and James had bid their friend a cheerful farewell, while Sirius sat silently off to the side, staring at the roaring fire. He hadn't acknowledged Remus' presence and had seemed not to notice when he left.

Sirius blinked several times before he answered. "What are you talking about?"

"You!" James said. "How come you didn't say goodbye to Remus?"

"Oh." Sirius shrugged. "I was thinking."

"About what?"

Sirius didn't answer.

"You've been acting strange for a while now, mate," James went on, frowning. "Is there something you aren't telling us?"

"…It's nothing."

James and Peter exchanged perplexed glances. "Sirius…" James began.

"Is everything alright?" Peter asked.

Hesitating, Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "I… I don't know."

James sat down beside Sirius on the couch. "You want to talk about it?"

"Not here." Sirius glanced pointedly around at the crowded common room.

Without a word, the three boys headed up to the dormitory. Thankfully, Frank Longbottom and Alexander Thorne were nowhere to be found, but just in case, James gestured for his friends to join him on his bed. He drew the curtains closed and cast _Quietus_ on them.

"Alright," he said firmly. "_Now_ do you want to talk about it?"

Sighing, Sirius slouched against the headboard and took off his tie to fiddle with it. "You're going to think I've gone barmy."

Normally, James wouldn't have passed up the opportunity to get in a jab at his best mate, but for once, Sirius's voice lacked any trace of humor, so instead, James simply said, "Try me." Peter nodded in agreement.

"Well…" Sirius wound his tie around his hand absently. "D'you remember the last couple times Remus went to… visit his mum?"

"Sure…" said James. "What about them?"

"The last one was a month ago, and the one before was a month before _that_."

Peter frowned. "So?"

"We had Astronomy that night." With a humorless laugh, Sirius clenched his hands around his tie, balling it up into a wrinkled wad. "It was a full moon. Second time he's missed Astronomy on a full moon night."

"Blimey, Sirius," James sighed, rolling his eyes. "I thought we agreed the whole his-mum's-a-werewolf theory was ridiculous."

Sirius scowled. "I'm not saying his mum's a werewolf."

"Good," said James. "Because—"

"I'm saying Remus is."


	20. Signs

**Last Time...  
**

_"I'm not saying his mum's a werewolf... I'm saying Remus is."_

* * *

**Chapter 20: Signs**

Silence filled the dormitory.

James gaped at Sirius, who stared defiantly back, still clutching his tie in both hands. Peter's mouth moved soundlessly as he glanced between his two friends, obviously at a complete loss for how to respond to Sirius' wild accusation.

_Remus? _James thought dizzily. _A werewolf? No way._ "You're mad," he said aloud.

Sirius scowled. "I _knew_ you'd say that."

"It's true."

"Maybe. At least hear me out."

Biting back an incredulous laugh, James shook his head. "Why the hell would I hear you out? Remus is _not_ a werewolf."

"He's always gone on the full moon."

"You can't remember every single time he was gone," Peter said, his eyes wide. "You can't know for sure. He _can't_, can he James?"

Sirius remained adamant. "Tomorrow night's the full moon, and Remus has already said he won't be back till Sunday."

"He's at his cousin's wedding!" James scoffed. "Or d'you think the bride wants to liven things up with a—?"

Sirius made a convulsive gesture, and the fabric of his tie popped at the sudden strain. "Don't even think about finishing that sentence, James. Remus isn't some sort of animal!"

"I'm not _saying_ Remus is an animal! Because he's _not—_ a _bloody—_ _werewolf!_"

"He said he's had lots of practice lying," Sirius ground out through clenched teeth.

"And that couldn't possibly be from lying to his mum or to the professors or _anything normal blokes lie about?_"

"Haven't you ever noticed how guilty he looks when we ask him about his mum?" Sirius demanded, tossing his tie aside before he ripped it in two. "How fast he changes the subject when we ask how his visit went? Has he ever told either of you what sort of disease his mum's even _got_?"

_Of course he has. He must have._ But James couldn't remember Remus ever saying anything beyond, 'My mum's sick again,' or, 'She's in St. Mungo's.'

"He… He just doesn't want to talk about it." The words sounded weak, and James stopped to collect himself. "If _my_ mum was sick, I wouldn't like talking about it all the time, either!"

"But—"

"But _nothing_, Sirius," James snapped, pushing back the curtains with a vicious swipe. He didn't want to listen to this anymore. Remus wasn't a werewolf. There was no way. Sirius had gone spare, that was all. He was being paranoid and making wild accusations. James stood and crossed the room, still fuming. "You're _wrong_," he hissed. Before Sirius could argue his insane theory any further, James had thrown the dormitory door wide and fled down the stairs.

-.-.-

James couldn't get Sirius' words out of his mind. As they snuck down to the Slytherin locker room early the next morning to turn the forest green uniforms hot pink, James was hardly paying attention. As they sat in the stands and watched the match (sadly, Slughorn fixed the uniforms before the players came onto the field), he couldn't summon the enthusiasm he usually had for Quidditch. Even when McGonagall confronted them after Ravenclaw's landslide victory, berating them for attempting to sabotage the Slytherin team and docking them fifteen points apiece, James merely mumbled an apology and took the first opportunity to slip away.

The professors patrolled the grounds again that night; James watched silently from his dormitory window until Sirius and Peter finally asked him what he was staring at. The last vestiges of cheeriness evaporated as they watched the small, dark figures move through the night, and James felt a knot of unease settle in the region of his stomach. They didn't discuss Sirius' theory any further that day, but James was certain they all lay awake late into the night, watching the moonlight creep across the room and wondering whether their friend might, at that very moment, be more wolf than boy.

When he finally fell asleep, werewolves filled James' dreams. He was sitting through a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with Lynx, when suddenly Sirius became a black wolf as large as a hippogriff. _I can't believe you thought _I_ was the werewolf,_ Remus said, laughing as the wolf-Sirius knocked James to the ground and bared his teeth. Lynx cast a spell that knocked the wolf away, and when James scrambled to his best friend's side, he found Sirius lying still, half-transformed, his human face grotesquely out of place on the wolf's body. Next moment, the whole class had become wolves— all except for Remus, who gave a deranged grin and asked James whether he was having fun yet.

After the restless night, Sunday passed in a weary blur, and James spent most of the day camped out in the common room, where Sirius dared not discuss werewolves for fear of someone else overhearing.

But when Remus climbed stiffly through the portrait hole around five o'clock, James didn't need Sirius' elbow digging into his ribs to notice how rough Remus looked. He was pale and shaky, with dark circles under his eyes and a slight limp to his gait. Wherever Remus had gone that weekend, James knew it couldn't have been a wedding.

Spotting his friends in the corner, Remus smiled and headed their way. Peter immediately pretended to be engrossed in his homework, and James gave a jerky nod, his mouth too dry to speak. Remus' pace slowed as he eyed his friends warily.

"Hey Remus!" Sirius called quickly, subtly kicking his other two friends under the table. "How was the wedding?"

"Fine," said Remus. "Good." He paused to lower himself stiffly to the couch. "How was… yesterday?"

Sirius grinned. "Great! Ravenclaw won and, ah… We had a good time ourselves, if you know what I mean. Lost a few points, but hey!" He shrugged. "Can't have everything. Say, Remus."

"Yes?"

"Have you finished the homework for tomorrow?"

Remus frowned suspiciously. "Yes…"

"Could I possibly—"

"No."

"But Remus!"

"You're not copying my homework, Sirius."

"Not _copying_. Just… referencing."

"You can do your _own_ homework, if you don't mind."

Sirius grinned. "Well, see, I do mind, so…"

With that, Sirius and Remus became so engrossed in their argument that it didn't matter that James could find nothing to say, nor that Peter couldn't even bring himself to look Remus in the eye.

-.-.-

"Ooh, that must have hurt! Potter unseated by a bludger from Mason— Are we _sure _they aren't cheating? Oh, wait, it's Hufflepuff. They never cheat."

James grimaced as he dangled uselessly under his broom. _Get it together, Potter,_ he told himself as he clambered back up. He returned to the action just as the Hufflepuff section erupted in cheers and Petra Banville let loose a string of oaths.

"MISS BANVILLE!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "The commentary, _if you please_!"

"Right, sorry, Professor. Hufflepuff scores. _Again. _That makes it… one hundred and twenty to ten, Hufflepuff in the lead. Honestly, ladies and gents, take a long, hard look at the scoreboard! It's not every day the Badgers have this much on the Lions!"

There was a resentful muttering from the Hufflepuffs in the stands, and their Keeper, Edgar Bones, made an obscene gesture in the direction of the commentator's tower.

Petra ignored them all. "And Gryffindor captain April Rohrs is calling a time-out!"

The Gryffindor team headed for the ground, where April peered at James. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," James muttered, shaking his head. "Sorry. I'm just feeling… out of sorts." It had been two weeks since the full moon, and James hadn't been able to stop thinking about Sirius' theory since. He'd tried to shove his broodings aside that morning, and he had very nearly succeeded. Then Remus had made an offhand comment about staying safe, as hospitals were no place to spend the weekend. He was obviously talking about all the times he'd spent the weekend with his mother at St. Mungo's... but James hadn't been able to stop himself wondering whether Mrs. Lupin had ever been ill at all.

April frowned at James now. "You aren't ill, are you?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Then go play like you did against Slytherin."

As they returned to the air, a chill, misting rain began to fall. Fortunately, it wasn't enough to obscure his vision, and the cold shocked James' brain fully awake so that he managed to focus long enough to help Margret and Rhonda score three more goals. Then he happened to catch sight of Remus in the stands, and he slowed just enough for Lawrence Mason to hit him with another bludger. By the time he recovered, the crowd was on its feet.

"ROHRS HAS SPOTTED THE SNITCH! Would you look at that girl fly— It's no wonder she's never given up the snitch! Amos Diggory sees it, too, but Rohrs has got a huge lead and she— YES! APRIL ROHRS HAS THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

Even before James touched down, students began to pour onto the field. But James didn't much feel like celebrating at the moment; not after his atrocious performance and not in the icy drizzle. He couldn't remember ever having made such a poor showing in his life.

As the Gryffindors congregated on the pitch, the other three Houses made their way up toward the castle and, not wanting to join either group, James turned and trudged in the other direction. In nicer weather, James would have gone to the beech tree down by the lake or for a walk around the grounds so he could sort things out in peace, but all he wanted now was to get out of the rain.

In the distance, he spotted the cheery glow of firelight spilling through the windows of Hagrid's hut. Figuring that there was worse company than Hagrid's, especially if it meant being warm and dry, James picked his way down the muddy trail from the Quidditch pitch and knocked on Hagrid's door.

"Hullo," Hagrid said, surprised, when he opened the door. "What're yeh doin' here? I figured yeh'd be off celebratin' yer win." He grinned as he gestured James inside. "Tha' was some flyin'."

"Not really," James muttered, running a hand through his rain-drenched hair. He sat heavily in one of the sturdy wooden chairs ringing the table.

Hagrid regarded him thoughtfully as he hung a kettle over the fire. "Wha' makes yeh say that?"

"Couldn't focus," James said vaguely. "I'd've lost us the match if not for April."

"Ah, 't wasn't as bad as all tha'."

"Yes, it was." James folded his arms on the table and buried his face.

The table shifted as Hagrid sat down, leaning forward to pat James on the shoulder. "Yeh wanna talk about it?"

"No." James paused, sighed, and glanced up. "Maybe."

Smiling, Hagrid nodded for him to continue.

"Well, see, one of my friends has a secret," James said slowly, "and I think I know what it is, only I'm not sure. I can't ask him about it, cause if I'm wrong he'll be offended, and if I'm right, it'll be even worse." He paused, scowling. How would he even begin that conversation? '_So, Remus, I hear you're a werewolf'_? That would go over well.

'_How could you even think that?'_ Remus would ask, with that quietly pained look that always made James feel sick with guilt. _'I thought you were my friend.'_

"No way," James went on, shaking his head stubbornly. "I can't talk to him, and I _definitely_ can't talk to anyone else about it, and I don't even know what to think about all this, only I can't _stop_ thinking about it, and if I don't do something soon, I think I might just explode!"

He stopped as the kettle whistled from the fireplace. Hagrid stood to fetch it, and James watched in silence as the large man prepared two cups of tea.

"What should I do, Hagrid?" James asked as Hagrid handed him one of the cups.

"Well," said Hagrid, "if yeh ask me, yeh oughtta just talk ter yer friend. Don' accuse 'im of anythin'. Jus' let 'im know yer worried. That he can trus' ya." He took a noisy sip of tea. "Let him be tha one ter tell you what's goin' on."

"I don't think he _will_," James argued, spinning his tea cup idly. "He'll just go on making up stories. Blimey, even if I ask him flat-out, he'll tell me I've got the wrong idea! I'll bet the only way I'm gonna get the truth out of him is if I can prove it."

Hagrid frowned. "I dunno what ter tell ya, James. There don't seem ta be anythin' ta do but talk ta him or nothin' at all."

But James wasn't paying attention to Hagrid. An idea had occurred to him, and the more the thought about it, the more certain he became that it would work. "That's it…"

"What's it?" Hagrid asked, confused.

"Well, isn't it obvious?" James sprang to his feet, grinning. "I've just got to find out for sure! Then I can _force_ him to tell me the truth!"

Alarmed, Hagrid hastily stood up, knocking the table sideways and spilling both his and James' tea. "Now hold yer hippogriffs! Yeh can' force it outta him!"

"I've got to!"

"No, yeh _don't_." Hagrid placed his hand on the door to hold it closed as James tried to leave. "Listen, James. If yeh go off lookin' after things that ain't yer business an' yer friend finds out, yer gonna be in a slew o' trouble."

James rolled his eyes as he tugged ineffectually at the door. "Don't be ridiculous, Hagrid. He won't find out!"

"Yeh can't know tha'. An' if he _does_, I'm tellin' ya, it won' be pretty. There's no faster way ta lose a friend than sneakin' around behind 'is back."

"Don't worry so much." Grinning, James ducked around Hagrid and sprinted for the back door, throwing it open before Hagrid could stop him. "Thanks, Hagrid! You've been a big help!" With a cheerful wave, James ducked back out into the rain and squelched through the muddy garden toward the path to the castle, ignoring Hagrid's protests.

-.-.-

"You want to _what?_" Sirius asked, dumbfounded.

It had taken James until dinner to catch Sirius and Peter alone. Fortunately, after losing several hours of study time for the morning's Quidditch match, Remus had left the Great Hall early to catch up. The other three had only just been finishing their first helping of ham, and nearly another hour had passed by the time they finally left.

As soon as they reached the first floor, James had dragged his friends into a passage behind a suit of armor to tell them his brilliant idea.

"Research," James repeated.

Peter frowned. "Research what?"

"You know…" James hesitated. "The thing? Sirius' theory about Remus?"

Peter's eyes widened. "Oh."

"I thought you said there was no way he was a werewolf," Sirius said suspiciously.

James cringed. "Well… I still think you're mad, but _something's_ going on, and I want to know what."

Shaking his head, Peter gaped at James. "So you really think he _might_ be one, then."

"I don't know." James sighed. "To be honest, I don't really know much of anything about them. That's why I figured we should find out everything we can. That's the only way we're going to know for sure whether or not Remus is a… you know."

"A werewolf," Sirius said flatly. He regarded James with a mix of confusion and irritation. "You alright, mate?"

"Fine," said James, perhaps a bit too quickly.

Sirius frowned. "Then how come you won't say 'werewolf?'"

"I can say it. Werewolf." He puffed up his chest defiantly. "See?"

"Bravo, James. Really spiffing." Sirius mockingly clapped his hands. "Now why don't you admit that Remus might be a werewolf?"

James opened his mouth to reply, but the words stuck in his throat. He scowled, reminding himself that they were just words; there was no reason not to say them. It wasn't as though he _believed_ that Remus was a werewolf. But the words wouldn't come.

At length, he sighed, slouching against the wall. "I can't."

"How can you be okay with this, Sirius?" Peter asked in a small voice, glancing around the passage warily, as though expecting Remus himself to appear at any moment.

Sirius crossed his arms. "How can you two _not_ be okay with it?" he shot back. "It's still Remus!"

"I know that!" James snapped. "I don't have a problem with him! It's just…" He paused, sighing, and stared at the floor. "I don't want to believe that he turns into a werewolf once a month. Doesn't that make you uncomfortable?"

"Not really."

Peter looked at Sirius like he was crazy. "It makes _me_ uncomfortable."

"We're his friends, Sirius," James said. "We're supposed to know when something's going on! If he's a werewolf, then how come we never noticed anything in the last year?"

Squirming, Sirius scratched the back of his head and turned away. "Well, it's not as though I'm _happy_ about this. I don't _want_ him to be a werewolf, I just think he _is_. And maybe we should've figured it out sooner, but we didn't, so we've just got to make up for it. If he's a werewolf, I want to know. And I want _him_ to know that we know. How else are we supposed to help him?"

"Help him?" Peter yelped. "How do you _help_ a werewolf?"

"I dunno. There's gotta be something."

"We won't know until we do some research," James said firmly.

Sirius grimaced. "You don't really want me to go to the _library_, do you?"

With a laugh, James turned and started walking, Sirius chasing after him with complaints of how stuffy and quiet and boring the library was and how there were other ways to find out what they needed to know.

"Oh, really?" James challenged, stepping out into the sixth floor corridor. "Name one— and don't forget, we can't tell anyone what we're looking for."

Sirius opened his mouth, but quickly shut it again. He furrowed his brow and walked in pensive silence the rest of the way to their dormitory. Once there, his face lit up.

"Remus' encyclopedia!" he cried, pointing to the hefty black tome on the desk beside the door.

"What about my encyclopedia?"

Remus emerged from the toilets, hair damp from a shower and a towel around his shoulders, already dressed in his pajamas with his robes in a bundle under one arm. Peter squeaked nervously at the sight of him, and Sirius froze, a guilty expression on his face. Remus frowned at both of them.

Thinking quickly, James said, "Our next prank! Remember how we were thinking of doing that thing with the nifflers, only we didn't know how to get a hold of any?"

"Er… yeah…" Remus tossed his towel and dirty robes onto his trunk. "So?"

"Well, we were wondering whether we could do the same thing without the nifflers— like if there was another kind of animal that tears rooms apart."

Remus nodded thoughtfully. "There might be."

"I figured." James elbowed Sirius playfully in the side. "Only problem is, Sirius doesn't want to go to the library. D'you suppose we could use your encyclopedia?"

"Of course." Remus grabbed the book and held it out to James. "You're the one who _gave_ it to me, James. You can use it whenever you like."

"Thanks." James sat on his bed and stared at the cover. The title, _Magical Encyclopedia of All Things Magical_, was embossed in silver lettering above a thin silver plate about the size of James' hand. He tried to open the book, but the cover refused to budge. Frowning, James turned to Remus, who had returned to his bed across the room and begun to rifle through his schoolbag. "Er… how do you open this thing?"

"Did you even _look _at this before you bought it for me?" Chuckling, Remus set his bag down and joined James. "You've got to tell it what information to bring up. Here." He took the encyclopedia back from James and placed his hand on the silver plate. "Nifflers."

The book glowed briefly golden and fell open in Remus' lap. A few pages flipped of their own accord, stopping at an entry headed by a picture of a niffler, a black, rat-like creature with a long, thin snout and oversized paws.

_Nifflers are subterranean creatures native to Great Britain.  
Social creatures that live in colonies as much as twenty feet  
below ground, nifflers spend their lives digging for shiny  
objects, including gemstones, ores, and glass. Because of  
their treasure-hunting instinct, nifflers have been domesticated  
by goblins and other magical beings who make their living  
hunting for treasure. The Ministry of Magic has given nifflers  
a XXX classification, as these gentle creatures pose little  
danger to competent wizards._

The entry went on to detail nifflers' feeding habits, reproduction, habitat, and the like, and several photographs and drawings illustrated the passage.

"You can sort it alphabetically, too," Remus said after a moment. He closed the book, which flashed gold again, and placed his hand on the cover. "Browse _N_."

The glow lasted longer this time, and when the book open, it showed a picture of a _Naandu_, a large, feathered reptile that looked a bit like an overgrown chicken with teeth and green, scaly legs. Remus flipped the page to _Narro Nego_, an oath spell that prevented information from being revealed, except at the discretion of the caster. The passage indicated that it was once popular among spies and secret societies who wished not to have their identities revealed, even under torture or Veritaserum. In recent centuries, however, as dark magic fell into disrepute, it had been largely replaced by the Fidelius Charm.

Remus continued to flip pages, although James noticed that the encyclopedia always seemed to be open to its exact center.

After a minute or so, Remus closed the book once more. "Or you can call up a whole subject. Browse magical creatures." The book fell open to _Abraxan_, a breed of flying horse, and Remus handed it over to James. "Here you go."

"That's pretty handy," James said, turning the page from _Abraxan_ to _Acromantula_. "Thanks, Remus!"

Smiling, Remus stood and returned to his bed, where he found whatever it was he had been looking for in his bag and settled down at his desk. "Don't mention it. If you'd like, I can check the library tomorrow for more ideas."

James felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach, but he managed a smile nonetheless. "If it's not too much of a bother."

"It's not," Remus assured him. "Remind me what exactly you're looking for?"

"A nuisance," Sirius said, finally recovering enough to join the conversation. He nudged Peter, and the two of them sat down on Peter's bed, between James' and Remus'. "Nothing dangerous, just annoying. Small, hard to catch."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "So the usual— chaos, mischief, mayhem."

"Exactly!" Sirius grinned.

For the next several hours, James paged through the encyclopedia, looking at pictures of Banshees and Centaurs and Ghouls. His mind kept jumping to the _W'_s, to the one entry he wanted to read. But he didn't dare skip ahead. James didn't think he could handle reading about werewolves with Remus sitting ten feet away.

When at last the four second years turned in for the night, James had learned nothing new about werewolves, or whether Sirius' theory might be correct after all.


	21. Our Friend

**Chapter 21: Our Friend**

It was several days before James and his friends had a chance to read the encyclopedia entry on werewolves. Every time Remus disappeared for the library, something else would turn up – Frank Longbottom and Alexander Thorne would be in the dormitory doing homework, or James and Sirius would have Quidditch practice or detention.

But then, finally, the perfect chance came along. Remus had gone to the library with Lily Evans; Frank and Alexander were down in the common room; and James, Sirius, and Peter had the entire afternoon free. When they walked into the blissfully empty dormitory, James flung his schoolbag carelessly across the room and crossed directly to Remus' desk, where the encyclopedia sat, as always, on the top shelf.

The three boys gathered on Peter's bed, drawing the curtains shut and casting their usual privacy charms, even as James laid his hand on the silver plate on the cover and said, "Werewolves."

James nearly dropped the book when it opened to a photograph of a snarling wolf with wicked-looking teeth and eerie golden eyes. As they watched, the wolf snapped at the camera, straining against whatever wards held it in place, obviously keen to get at the wizard behind the lens. After a moment, it dropped back and began to pace back and forth, its unsettling eyes never leaving the camera. It restrained itself only a few seconds before once more hurling itself against the invisible barrier.

"Cor…" Sirius murmured, staring at the page over James' shoulder.

On James' other side, Peter shuddered. "You really think Remus is… _that_?"

Sirius didn't answer.

"Well," said James softly, mesmerized by the vibrant gold eyes in the photograph. "That's what we're going to find out. Let's see what it says."

Sirius and Peter murmured their agreement, and James began to read aloud.

_Werewolves (_Homo lupus_) are among the most dangerous  
dark creatures known to wizardkind and are capable of  
killing even the most skilled wizards. The Ministry of Magic  
has given werewolves a XXXXX classification and forbids  
any attempts to train or domesticate these creatures._

"Domesticate!" Sirius protested, scowling at the book. "Who the hell do they think they are? Keeping other people as pets!"

James shook his head. "You think someone's actually tried to keep a werewolf as a pet?" he asked dubiously.

"Or train one?" Peter asked, looking petrified at the very idea of teaching a werewolf to roll over.

"I'll train _them_, ruddy Ministry gits," Sirius growled. "Train them not to be pigheaded morons."

Lips twitching, James shrugged. "Well, it does say it's not allowed," he pointed out. "So that's something."

Sirius turned his glare on James, who fidgeted and murmured, "Or not…" He hastily started reading once more.

_Lycanthropy is an untreatable, incurable condition  
transmitted by the bite of a fully transformed werewolf.  
Humans are the only beings known to be susceptible to  
the infection and are also werewolves' preferred prey._

_For most of the lunar cycle, werewolves are indistinguishable  
from humans. On the night of the full moon, however, they  
undergo a monstrous transformation into mindless, vicious  
beasts, as pictured above._

"Well _that's_ helpful," Sirius said sarcastically. "Indistinguishable from humans my arse! There's got to be _some_ way to tell who turns into a wolf once a month."

"Aside from waiting for the full moon to rise, you mean?" James asked with a smirk. "I reckon it'd be pretty obvious whether or not they've sprouted fur."

Sirius rolled his eyes.

"You can't just _watch_ the transformation!" Peter whimpered. "That's dangerous!"

James resisted the urge to join Sirius in scoffing at Peter's skittishness. "We aren't going to watch the transformation, Pete. 'S not like Remus would _let_ us, anyhow."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief at that, and Sirius rolled his eyes again, snatching the encyclopedia away from James.

"What else does it say?" he asked, scanning down the page. James leaned over to read for himself. The rest of the entry was subdivided into various sections. James skimmed the first paragraph or so of each to see whether it contained any useful information.

_Distribution: Werewolves are found throughout the world,  
particularly in Europe and North America. They generally  
avoid wizarding society, although they may settle down in  
muggle towns. More often, they will live in remote forests in  
packs of five to twenty-five members. Packs exhibit a clear  
hierarchical structure…_

_...  
_

_Reproduction: Werewolves have never been known to breed,  
multiplying instead by infecting young, defenseless humans.  
Some scholars have suggested that lycanthropy can be passed  
from a werewolf to its offspring, although there have been no  
known cases of werewolf young to confirm this theory…_

_...  
_

_Feeding Habits: Werewolves are strict carnivores and may  
hunt alone or in packs. Humans are their preferred prey, but  
at times (particularly in a pack setting) they will feed instead  
on other mammals. Rodents and lagomorphs comprise a large  
part of a werewolf's diet; large packs may also hunt sheep or  
cervids…_

And then he saw what he was looking for: a section near the bottom of the second page, labeled _Identification_. James took the book back from Sirius, who huffed indignantly.

"I was reading that," he protested.

James rolled his eyes. "Down here. Look." He pointed to the section on identification. "That's what we're looking for, isn't it?"

"S'pose so," said Sirius. "What's it say?"

"Let's see…"

_Identification: Transformed werewolves are similar in appearance  
to gray wolves (_Canis lupus_), with a few notable differences. Fully  
grown werewolves are considerably larger than ordinary wolves:  
while gray wolves do not ordinarily exceed three feet at the shoulders,  
it is not uncommon to see werewolves that stand four feet tall or  
more. In addition to their size, werewolves can be distinguished by  
their tufted tail, enlarged teeth and claws, elongate snout, and golden  
eyes (in contrast to the blue or yellow-brown eyes seen on common  
wolves). Gray wolves' eyes, like those of many other non-magical  
creatures, have a reflective structure called the tapetum lucidum,  
which allows them to see in low light conditions. Werewolves do not  
possess this structure; it is unknown whether they use magic to  
enhance their sight, or if they rely on hearing and olfaction for  
orientation, navigation, and communication._

"That's it?" Sirius asked when James had finished. "Isn't there anything else? Let me see."

"Nothing," James said, relinquishing his hold on the encyclopedia so Sirius could pore over it once more.

Sirius turned the page, but there was nothing after the short section on identification. The remaining pages were entirely blank. "That can't be all!" Sirius protested. "What do I care if I can tell what's a wolf and what's a _were_wolf? I want to know how to tell whether _Remus_ is a werewolf or a bloke with a sick mum!"

"I think it's good to know what a werewolf looks like on the full moon," Peter muttered resentfully.

"What for?" Sirius asked. "When something big and toothy jumps at you, run. Easy!"

Worrying his lip, Peter fiddled with his sleeves. "It's still worth knowing… I'll bet you could fight off a normal wolf a lot easier than a werewolf…"

"Here's an idea," Sirius said, shutting the book with a snap. "If it's the full moon, just assume it's a werewolf."

"Anyway," said James in an attempt to head off a row as he threw back the curtains. "One little book can't have all the information in the world, or there wouldn't _be_ more than one. We'll just have to look somewhere else."

With a grimace, Sirius stood up and went to replace the encyclopedia on Remus' desk. "You mean the library, don't you?"

"Well, Sirius," came Remus' voice from the doorway, "if you're looking for books, then yes, the library _would_ be your best bet."

James, Sirius, and Peter all jumped at the sudden statement; the other boy smiled slightly as he shut the door behind himself. "Sorry," he said, amusement playing across his face. "Didn't mean to startle you."

James shook himself and climbed to his feet. "Don't mention it. We just didn't expect you back so soon. Weren't you doing homework with Evans?"

Remus chuckled. "I was. Then we finished."

"But you've hardly been gone an hour," Sirius pointed out.

"Amazing how much I can get done without you lot underfoot, isn't it?" Remus plunked his bag down on the desk and began to unload his books. He glanced over his shoulder at Peter, who remained on his bed, seemingly spooked by Remus' presence so soon after they'd been discussing werewolves. "Find anything useful?"

James frowned. "What—?"

"Oh!" Sirius cut across. "The prank!"

"Right…" James nodded vigorously. "The prank!" He glanced at Sirius. "Er… We've got a few leads, but we need to do more research."

"Hence the library," added Sirius.

Remus gave them both an odd look. "Well, for what it's worth, I've got a few ideas. I couldn't find any creatures that you'd be able to get your hands on, but I've got a spell or two that should work in a pinch."

"That so?" James asked, falling back onto Peter's bed. He flashed a grin toward Sirius. "Looks like you might be spared the horrors of the library after all, mate."

"Sounds good to me." Sirius grabbed Remus and pulled him onto Peter's bed with the others. "What'd you have in mind?"

-.-.-

Friday evening found the three second years feeling extremely out-of-place in the nearly empty library. With no major tests or assignments on the horizon, and with the weather unusually mild for early April, very few students were keen to keep themselves cooped up in a room full of books. Even the Ravenclaws who studied non-stop did so outside for once.

Lily's friend Alice Howard had dragged her down to the lake with the other second year girls, and even Remus had decided to go visit Hagrid after dinner. He'd invited the other three, of course, but they'd all found an excuse not to go. James and Sirius told him they were going to find some Slytherins to antagonize— one pastime neither Remus nor Peter ever took part in, if they could help it. Peter, therefore, had needed his own excuse.

"Homework, Pete?" Sirius groaned as the three of them found a secluded table at which to work. They'd spent the last half hour gathering every book they could find that dealt with werewolves, dark creatures, or magical diseases, and the sheer volume of reading before them was overwhelming. Sirius, needless to say, was not happy. "Really? Of all the idiotic excuses…"

Peter flushed, dumping his load of books beside Sirius'. "Sorry. What was I supposed to say?"

"I don't know, anything? You're lucky he didn't bloody well offer to help you!"

"He did," Peter murmured, sinking down into his seat. "But everyone knows I'm a numpty. It'd take me twice as long as him anyhow, so I told him to go on ahead, I'd get started and he could help me out tomorrow."

"Brilliant," Sirius said sarcastically. "Ruddy brilliant, Pete. Now you've just got to get a few hours' worth of homework done before he gets back."

"Not necessarily." James grinned as an idea occurred to him. "Not if we came along and distracted him, dragged him off to explore the castle when we couldn't find Snivellus or Malfoy." He opened a book called _Werewolf: Being or Beast?_ "Besides, that gives us a ready-made excuse if Remus turns up _here_ before we're done."

"And when Remus asks why Peter needs a bunch of books on werewolves for his Charms homework…?" Sirius asked, grabbing _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_.

"Simple," said James. "Just as soon as Remus turns up, we tell Peter enough's enough and kindly reshelf all his books for him. Remus'll never get a chance to see what we've been reading."

Sirius took a moment to consider this, then nodded. "Fine. Let's just get started already. I'm gonna smell like library for a week as it is."

James needed no further prompting to get started. They worked mostly in silence, except when one of them found something worth sharing. Peter, for instance, found a section in _Werewolves in the Dark and Other Creatures of the Night_ that detailed the process of transformation. From dislocated joints to torn muscles to broken bones, the ordeal sounded so agonizing that James stared blankly at his book for the next several minutes, his brain refusing to make sense of the words before him.

Once, when he was ten, James had fallen off his broom and broken his leg. Although a Healer at St. Mungo's had mended the break in an instant, the leg had ached for some time afterwards. James remembered milking his pain for all it was worth, lying around for a full week while his parents fetched him whatever he asked for.

Remus hardly ever missed more than a single day of classes.

_He can't be going through all that every month_, James told himself desperately. _He just can't. There's no way anyone could break bones and tear muscles and dislocate joints and then just go around as if nothing happened!_

"We still don't know he's a werewolf," he said aloud, clamping down on the rising guilt. _He's not a werewolf. He's not. _"I mean, look, I feel bad for any werewolf who's got to go through this rubbish, but Remus is just a normal kid. We'd know if he was hurting like this."

Peter looked as uncertain as James felt, but Sirius just rolled his eyes. Levitating _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ to the nearby reshelving cart, he grabbed the next book in his pile, _Magical Fauna of Europe_.

"Just keep looking," he muttered. "We'll find your proof sooner or later."

James wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not, but he obediently turned back to _Werewolf: Being or Beast?_ He'd already flipped through the chapters on symptoms and behaviors typical of werewolves, but he hadn't found any mention of how to identify werewolves in their human forms. The next chapter covered Ministry policies, and James was about to skip over it when the first sentence caught his eye— _The question remains: are werewolves mere Beasts, or are they more human than we like to admit?_

Despite himself, James felt curiosity rise up to replace his lingering guilt. He began to read.

_Controversy abounds as the Ministry of Magic struggles  
to find an answer. In the past, official stance on the issue  
of lycanthropy has vacillated considerably. Both the Being  
and the Beast Divisions of the Department for the Regulation  
and Control of Magical Creatures argue that werewolves fall  
under their jurisdiction, and as such, both Divisions have  
established their own policies for werewolf regulation. At  
present, werewolf classification varies based on the lunar  
cycle so that the Being and Beast Divisions share jurisdiction  
over registered and feral werewolves._

_During the full moon transformation, werewolves are  
considered Beasts under the Beast-Being-Spirit Classification  
System (BBSCS), as the creatures in this form lack all reason  
and self-control. They are therefore subject to all the rights and  
restrictions thereof (see Chapter 5 for further discussion of  
werewolves as Beasts)._

_In addition to normal regulations of Beasts, several werewolf-  
specific laws have been passed to protect the safety of wizards  
and muggles alike. Transformed werewolves are prohibited by  
law to come within ten miles of humans without Ministry-approved  
containment measures in place. They are not permitted within city  
limits under any conditions. Violations of these restrictions may  
result in mandatory relocation or referral to Containment Facilities.  
Any werewolf that attacks a human being during the full moon is  
immediately deemed unsafe and may be put down to prevent  
further incidents._

_Wizards are permitted to employ any form of self-defense  
against transformed werewolves, up to and including lethal  
force._

_During the rest of the lunar cycle, however, when capable of  
near-human intelligence (as per BBSCS definition) werewolves  
are considered Beings and are subject to all relevant laws.  
To prevent infection of potential offspring, werewolves are not  
permitted to marry or have children; they also may not share  
a legal residence with underage children not related to them by  
blood._

_All werewolves must register with the Office of Werewolf Affairs  
in the Being Division of the Department for the Regulation and  
Control of Magical Creatures. The Werewolf Register is not  
available for public viewing; however, the Ministry will disclose  
a werewolf's condition when one applies for jobs, housing, or  
any Ministry-sponsored program, or seeks medical attention at  
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries (or  
similar institutions). This allows all involved to make safe and  
informed decisions._

_Infractions of werewolf laws set by the Being Division, including  
failure to register with the Ministry within ninety days of infection,  
are indictable offences and are punishable by fines and/or  
imprisonment in Azkaban._

James slammed the book down on the table so hard that both Sirius and Peter looked up in alarm and the familiar sound of Madam Pince, the librarian, shushing them drifted through the silent room. Seeing Sirius' questioning glance, James shook his head and irritably banished _Werewolf: Being or Beast?_ to the reshelving cart.

It wasn't fair! Surely the Ministry wouldn't throw someone in Azkaban just for getting married. And James couldn't imagine that many werewolves would register with the Ministry if it meant they could hardly do anything in the wizarding world without being found out. As if the pain of transformation wasn't enough, it seemed anyone who happened to be a werewolf had to deal with a heap of prejudiced laws, too!

Once they realized James wasn't going to explain himself, Sirius and Peter returned to their books. It wasn't long before Peter made a small, startled sound and all but threw his book at the reshelving cart.

"What was that?" Sirius asked.

Peter shook his head, looking slightly green. "Victims," he said shortly. "You don't want to see."

"You're right," said Sirius, holding up _The Magic of Magical Creatures_. "Reading about it's bad enough. Listen to this— _Wounds inflicted by werewolves are cursed wounds and cannot be healed magically, although certain herbs and potions can provide partial relief. This dark magic resides in both teeth and claws, so both bite and scratch wounds will leave permanent scars._"

James' stomach gave an unpleasant lurch as he thought of Remus and all his scars. Something told him that they had just stumbled upon the key to the matter, although he felt as though he were still missing something important. "So what?" he asked nervously. "I'm sure there are loads of ways to get scars like that."

Sirius stared at him like he had just said Hogwarts was made entirely of chocolate. "Maybe if you're a muggle. Any Healer worth two knuts could heal normal scars in a snap, and we know Remus grew up in a magical family. Plus, look at how many scars he's got!"

"Exactly!" James wiped his sweaty palms on his robes. "He's got _loads_ of scars! He can't've got all of them at once!" The image of Remus' scarred face and hands rose in James' mind. He had so many scars – some old, thin, white lines, others pink and lumpy as though just a few weeks old – all of them criss-crossing like a spider's web on his skin.

With an uneasy pang, James realized that he'd never seen Remus without his shirt on; the other boy always changed in the toilets, and he never went swimming with his classmates. How many more scars was he hiding?"

James swallowed the lump in his throat. "There's no way," he said. "What, do you think Remus—?"

James' words died on his tongue. He stared, horrorstruck, at his friends as a sudden, terrible thought occurred to him. From the appalled expression on Sirius' face, a similar notion had struck him at the same moment. Without a word, they began to tear through the remaining books, searching frantically for something to prove them wrong.

James' heart felt like it was trying to burst out of his chest and find somewhere to curl up and die. His breath came in rapid gasps as he told himself, over and over, _It's not true. It's not true. _Sirius looked equally disturbed by his thoughts. And Peter, meanwhile, looked completely lost.

"Here!" Sirius yelped. From somewhere nearby, Madam Pince shushed them for a second time. The Gryffindors hardly heard her. "_In order to prevent themselves attacking nearby humans, many werewolves lock themselves away for their monthly transformations. Frustrated by their confinement and lack of prey, and attracted by the lingering human scent of their own blood, these werewolves will_—" Sirius broke off here to draw in a deep, tremulous breath before continuing— "_will b-bite and scratch themselves…_" He trailed off again, turning his wide eyes on James. "I didn't… I didn't realize…"

James shook his head dizzily, squeezing his eyes shut as the room spun around him. His grip on his book tightened so convulsively that the page began to rip.

Peter whimpered. "Come on guys, be serious! Remus isn't a werewolf! We haven't got any proof!"

"No," said James weakly, not opening his eyes. "We haven't." And yet he found he couldn't deny it any longer. When he thought about all they had learned about werewolves, it was no longer some faceless stranger he pictured. It was Remus. Remus writing in pain as his body rearranged itself into the shape of a wolf, bones popping, muscles straining to hold him together. Remus, as a wolf, tearing into his own flesh and leaving behind the latest in a long series of scars. Remus pretending everything was alright, suffering in silence… Or would the pain be so great that he couldn't help but cry out?

It was as though he had been punched in the gut. The book fell from numb fingers as James' mouth worked soundlessly.

"James?" Peter asked concernedly.

Sirius set his own book aside. "You alright, mate?"

"The Shack," James breathed.

"What?"

"The Shack." James' hands were shaking; he ran them through his hair nervously, staring at the tabletop as his stomach gave a feeble little flutter. "The Shrieking Shack. Don't you remember?" Even to him, his voice sounded flat and hollow, but he found he couldn't stop speaking. "We went down there with Remus, and it was as quiet as a toadstool. Then Remus went to 'see his mum,' and we go back, and… and…"

A quick glanced showed that Sirius and Peter had both paled dramatically.

"The screams?" Sirius asked.

Peter shook his head. "No. No, it can't be."

"The moon was full," James said.

In the silence that followed this statement, James could almost hear the screams they'd heard that night, agonized screams. James had never heard anything like them.

_Remus…_

"Damn it!" Sirius bellowed suddenly, staggering to his feet and knocking over a stack of books near his left elbow. James and Peter jumped at the sudden movement, even as Madam Pince appeared from behind a bookshelf.

"Really!" the librarian huffed. "This is a _library_. Show some respect!"

"But it's not bloody fair!" Sirius roared.

Madam Pince looked scandalized, though James couldn't say whether it was the volume or the swearing that offended her. "Young man, if you don't calm down this instant, I'm going to have to ask you to leave!"

"But he's—"

"Sirius!" James interrupted sharply, just in case Sirius had been thinking of saying something stupid.

"Yeah, yeah." Leveling James with a glare, Sirius banished a pile of books with irritable vigor; they crashed against the wall above the reshelving cart and tumbled unceremoniously to the ground.

Madam Pince gasped. "What on _Earth_ are you doing?"

"Cleaning up," Sirius snarled, banishing another stack of books with even less finesse. "If you wanna toss me out, then go ahead!"

It looked as though Madam Pince was considering doing just that, and tacking on a detention besides. Deciding that they didn't need to call attention to their presence in the library, James gave Peter a gentle shove toward Sirius.

"Get him out of here," he hissed, glaring at Sirius to get the same message across. The other boy resisted Peter's feeble pull for a moment, but he apparently saw the murder in Madam Pince's eyes. After a moment, he trudged toward the door with Peter in tow.

James quickly – but carefully – levitated the remaining books onto the cart, which promptly trundled off with its load. He then smiled weakly at the librarian and chased after his friends.

"Alright, Sirius," James grumbled as he rounded the last row of shelves, spotting Sirius and Peter up ahead. "What the bloody hell was—"

He stopped abruptly when he realized they weren't alone.

"James," said Remus in surprise. "_You're_ here, too?"

Sirius had gone stony-faced, his stormy eyes riveted on Remus' scarred face. James thought for a moment that Sirius was going to be sick. James himself knew he would lose it if he looked at Remus right now, with the words from the books running through his head. And Peter, who was shaking visibly, took one petrified glance at Remus before bolting for the doors and vanishing into the corridor beyond.

James bit back a string of colorful curses he'd learned from one of the portraits in the South Tower. _If that doesn't make Remus suspicious, nothing will._

Sure enough, Remus frowned after Peter for a long moment before turning expectantly to the others.

"Er… It's a long story?" James said weakly.

"I'm not in any hurry," Remus assured them. "I was just on my way back from Hagrid's and figured I'd see how Peter was coming along." He glanced over James' shoulder, and James turned to see Madam Pince glowering at them.

Wincing, James started for the doors. "Maybe we should leave…"

Remus nodded and gestured for them to lead the way. Once the library doors thudded shut behind them, he asked, "So why were you two in the library? And what happened to Peter? Is he alright? He looked awfully shook up about something."

"We were looking for some Slytherins, like we told you," Sirius said smoothly, evidently finding it easier to think when he didn't have to look Remus in the eye. "But Malfoy decided to go outside with some of the other snakes, and we couldn't very well pick a fight with all of them at once. And since we couldn't find Snivellus anywhere, we went to find Peter. Figured we could go exploring since there was nothing better to do."

Catching onto Sirius' idea, James picked up the story. "But guess who was bugging Peter when we got there?"

"Snivellus," said James and Sirius together.

A furrow appeared between Remus' eyebrows. "What do you mean, 'bugging'?"

"He was being an arse," said Sirius with so much venom James almost believed they _had_ walked in on Snape bullying Peter. "Calling Peter stupid and useless and stuff."

Sending a furtive glance around the corridor, James dropped his voice low. "Peter was practically in tears by the time we showed up and put an end to it."

"And then Madam Pince chased us out."

"Didn't seem to appreciate us dueling in her library," James agreed indignantly.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Big surprise."

James shrugged. "So, look. Peter's a titch embarrassed about all this, and he—" James scratched his neck sheepishly— "he'd probably rather we not tell you about it, so…"

"I won't say a word," Remus promised. "But you'll make sure he's alright? He looked like he was in a right state."

"Yeah." James paused, mulling over Peter's odd reaction. "Yeah. I'll talk to him first chance I get."

-.-.-

That chance came later in the evening when, upon catching sight of Remus, James, and Sirius clambering through the portrait hole, Peter bolted up the stairs to the dormitory. Shooting Sirius a frantic look that he hoped said, _Distract Remus!_ James hurried after Peter.

The dormitory, fortunately, was deserted but for the two of them. Peter tried to hide under his comforter when James entered, but James was in no mood to mess around. Locking the door behind him, James stalked across the room and threw back the blankets.

"It's just me, Peter."

Peter glanced warily toward the door. "Where's…?"

"Sirius is keeping him busy," James said, sitting down beside Peter. "Now what's—?"

"You're wrong."

James blinked at the hard edge Peter's voice had acquired. "What?"

"You're wrong," Peter repeated, doggedly avoiding James' gaze. There was no uncertainly whatsoever in his voice, however, as he pressed on. "You and Sirius. You're wrong. Remus isn't a—" He faltered, then steeled himself— "werewolf."

James frowned. "What makes you say that?"

Suddenly, Peter looked up, fixing James with a defiant, if slightly tearful, glare. "What makes _you_ say he _is_? A couple of coincidences and you're both convinced it's true! You haven't got any proof." He shook his head stubbornly. "He's _not_ a werewolf. He can't be!"

"But…" James glanced toward the door. "No, you're right." He sighed as Peter gaped at him. They _didn't_ have proof, after all, just a series of suspicions and conjectures. "I think we're on to something here, Peter, I really do. But we won't do anything until we've got actual proof. Alright?"

Slowly, Peter nodded.

"And Peter?" James asked. "I know this is weird, but you've got to try not to run away every time Remus walks into the room."

Flushing, Peter nodded. "I know. It's just…"

"I know." James clapped Peter on the shoulder. "Believe me, Peter, I know. This'll take some getting used to. And Merlin only knows how we're gonna bring this up with him when we get to that." He ran a hand through his hair, blew out a long breath, and smiled at Peter. "But he's still Remus, right?"

After a moment's hesitation, Peter dropped his gaze and mumbled, "Right."

He didn't sound entirely convinced, but James passed this off as the shock of finding out one of his best friends was a werewolf. At any rate, James' own head was spinning with all the new information.

"Just sleep on it," he suggested. "Things'll look better in the morning."

Peter looked immensely relieved at the prospect of sleep, and he bid James a good night. James returned the sentiment before trudging back down to the common room, where Sirius and Remus looked up expectantly.

"How is he?" Remus asked softly when James joined them on the sofa in the corner.

James shrugged. "He needs a little time, I think, but he'll be fine. Just give him some space for the next few days."

They spoke no more on the subject of Peter than night, at least until Remus had gone to bed. Once they were sure the rest of their dormmates were asleep, James and Sirius climbed onto James' bed, drew the curtains, and cast a battery of privacy charms.

"Is he alright with it?" Sirius asked at once. "Honestly?"

"Actually, he's still not convinced Remus _is_ a werewolf," James admitted. "He's just a little overwhelmed. So the first thing we'll have to do is prove we're right."

Sirius snorted. "And how exactly do you suggest we do that?"

"I don't know, but we'll think of something. Anyway, once we've convinced him, then we'll worry about his reaction. Hopefully he'll be alright with it."

"Yeah."

They sat in silence for a while as James worked up the courage to voice the question he'd been dying to ask all night.

"What about you, Sirius? Are you alright with this?"

"Hell no!"

James flinched.

Shaking his head, Sirius grabbed James' pillow and punched it. "I mean, I figured Remus had to be a werewolf, and that's why he always looked tired when he got back from visiting his mum, but _this_? The transformation and the biting himself all the time?"

"Not to mention the Ministry policies," James added.

"What?"

With a shrug, James recounted what he'd read about werewolf legislation. "And we're underage," he added. "If anyone finds out he's been sharing a dorm with us…" James shuddered. "He could go to Azkaban."

Sirius' eyes widened. "Blimey…"

"I know. We've got to keep it secret."

"Of course." Sirius nodded, scowling. "It's not fair! Remus is one of the best blokes I know! How come he's got to suffer like that?"

"I don't know." James scrubbed at his eyes, feeling suddenly tired. "I guess that means you're alright with Remus, though."

"Of course I'm alright with Remus. He hasn't changed just 'cause _we_ found out the truth." Sirius eyed James suspiciously. "You haven't got a problem, have you?"

Huffing, James snatched his pillow from Sirius to throw it at his head. "Course not! It's like you said – Remus is Remus, whatever he gets up to on full moons."

For a few minutes, they sat in silence, each lost in his own thoughts. Inexplicably, James' mind drifted to the beginning of his first year, to the day of the Gryffindors' and Ravenclaws' first flying lesson.

"Remember when Gilderoy knocked Remus off his broom?" he asked suddenly.

Sirius nodded.

"I was just thinking – Remus broke his arm when he fell, but he didn't make a peep. It must've hurt, wouldn't you think?"

Sirius shifted uncomfortably. "I suppose. But you know Remus. He never lets on when something's wrong. I mean, look at this summer. He— Oh!"

"What?"

"Nothing. I've just thought of something. Hang on." Sirius ducked between the bed hangings and disappeared. A moment later, he returned with a small booklet in his hand.

"Lunar charts," Sirius explained. "I nicked 'em from the library a couple days ago. Haven't had a chance to look through them yet, but I wonder… Yeah. Look! There was a full moon at the end of term last year— the day after Remus left. And…" He flipped a page in the booklet. "The twenty-fourth of August. We were all at Peter's then. That's why Remus didn't come."

James smiled grimly. "Think this'll convince Peter?"

"Worth a try."

"Yeah." James paused. "Turn to November for a second."

Sirius did.

"The twentieth. Wasn't that the day we heard the screaming from the Shack?"

Sirius shuddered, but nodded. "So it _was_ Remus."

"I guess so." James felt a chill run up his back. "And if he doesn't even whimper when he breaks his arm, how much pain does he have to be in to scream like that?"

Drawing in a shaky breath, Sirius shook his head. "We've got to find a way to help him."

"How?" James asked. "All the books I read said no one's found any charm or potion that helps, even a little. What are _we_ supposed to do?"

"I don't know… Something!"

Through a gap in the curtains, they heard Frank Longbottom stir in the next bed over.

"We've got to figure _something_ out," Sirius whispered. "He's our friend, James."

"Our best friend," James agreed.

"So we'll find a way to help him?"

James nodded. "Whatever it takes."


	22. Sleepless Nights

**Chapter 22: Sleepless Nights**

James had hoped that Peter would be less jumpy in the morning, having slept on Friday's revelations, but the improvement was not so great as James would have liked. For the next several days, Peter refused to be alone with Remus, and even with James and Sirius there to provide a buffer, he could hardly manage to string two words together at a time. Remus started to get suspicious as things didn't improve, and James knew the story they'd concocted about Snape bullying Peter wouldn't guarantee his silence much longer.

James and Sirius quickly agreed to keep Peter and Remus apart whenever possible. By the time Monday rolled around, they were running interference practically nonstop. In the corridors between classes, Sirius would pretend to have spotted Snape – a sure way to get Remus to wander off for an hour or so. At meals, James and Sirius conspired to put as much space as possible between their two friends, which meant finding four seats in a line and claiming the center two quickly, so Remus and Peter were left at either end.

In the evenings, on the unhappy chance that Remus returned from the library before curfew, they had to get a bit more creative. Sometimes Sirius would pester Remus for homework answers continuously, leaving Remus no time to see that Peter kept sneaking glances his way. If they had a Potions assignment, James would pull Peter aside for help. Mostly, though, they thought up preparations for their next prank that needed doing – tasks that, more often than not, didn't require Remus and Peter to breathe the same air.

It was exhausting work, and James hoped this awkwardness wouldn't last long. Once Peter finally accepted the truth, he could come to terms with it, and then they could all tell Remus that they knew and wanted to help.

"First order of business," said Sirius late Wednesday night, "is helping him come up with a better story than his mum being sick."

James and Sirius had taken to meeting on James' bed every night after Peter and Remus had fallen asleep. Behind curtains and privacy charms, they planned out how to deal with Remus' secret and Peter's less-than-enthusiastic response. They'd agreed from the start not to approach Remus without Peter, figuring that one panicky friend at a time was more than enough to deal with. The last thing they wanted was to make Remus think Peter had abandoned him because of his condition.

Several days earlier, James and Sirius had cornered Peter to show him the lunar charts, hoping that would convince him of the truth, but Peter had not been impressed. When he wasn't insisting that James and Sirius had remembered the dates of Remus' absences incorrectly, he was claiming that Remus' excuses had all been perfectly believable, and he'd hardly spared the lunar charts a glance. It was, to say the least, infuriating.

"You know something, Sirius?" James muttered after a particularly long silence.

"What?"

"Before this week, I never would've guessed that Peter could be more trouble than a werewolf."

Sirius laughed. "And if we can put up with Peter, breaking the news to Remus ought to be a breeze!"

-.-.-

James could hardly wait for the weekend, and it wasn't for any of the usual reasons. He didn't care that it meant a break from classes, or two days to stay up late exploring and sleep until noon. He didn't care about the prank they had planned for Friday, except that it would keep Remus and Peter apart for most of the day.

Instead, James had only one thing on his mind as Friday dawned: Saturday, the night of the full moon.

James and Sirius had already devised a plan to prove to Peter once and for all that Remus really was a werewolf. Finally, James thought, finally they would be able to move forward. Once Peter stopped denying the truth, they could address the real issue.

_Still got to survive two days_, James reminded himself as he rolled out of bed. Sirius, Peter, and Remus joined him moments later, and despite the clear effect the approaching full moon had on Remus, the nervous energy that filled the room was enough to drive everything else from James' mind.

"Everyone know the plan?" James murmured as they descended toward the Great Hall for breakfast. The other three nodded, but James decided to double check anyway. "Peter?"

"The rats are in the Red Tower," Peter said excitedly. "I'll start turning them loose after breakfast."

"Perfect. Remus?"

In response, Remus drew his wand, pointed it at the door of a disused classroom they were passing, and said, "_Inculte._" A series of thuds and crashes drifted through the open door and a handful of vials rolled out into the corridor. James, Sirius, and Peter hurried forward to see Remus' handiwork. What had been a perfectly well-organized (if a bit dusty) classroom was now littered with overturned desks, scattered books, and shredded parchment. It looked as though a hurricane had blown through— or at least a pack of nifflers.

"Nice work, Remus!" James cheered. "And me and Sirius will handle the rumors."

Between the destruction and the rumors, James hoped, the professors would surely think they had a niffler infestation on their hands. Add to that the rats, which could pass for nifflers from a distance (as long as no one got a good look at their snouts or paws), and the confusion ought to last most of the day.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "We know, James. We all helped plan this."

"Oh, sod off," James grumbled. But he couldn't maintain a sour mood for long, and by the time they had reached the Great Hall, he was in high spirits once more.

After breakfast, in the open hour before their first lesson, Peter and Remus went their separate ways, while James and Sirius relaxed in the common room. James' thoughts kept drifting to the prank, wondering how it was going and whether his friends had got caught, but he kept an easy air about him, as though he had nothing better to do than sit around with the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team discussing their prospects of beating out Ravenclaw for the Quidditch Cup.

The whispers picked up at lunch as the students began to discuss the trashed classrooms. Thus far, the Professors seemed unaware of the scattered messes, but a handful of students had happened upon them over the course of the morning, and they were eager to debate the cause.

"It's gotta be Peeves," said Davey Gudgeon as he grabbed a roll. "Who else would do something like that?"

A number of eyes drifted toward James and Sirius.

James tapped his chin thoughtfully. "That's not a bad prank," he mused. "Maybe we ought to join in the fun!"

"You're saying it _wasn't_ you?" Bertha Jorkins asked skeptically.

"Couldn't have been," said Kendrick Hattan, one of the Gryffindor Beaters. "They were with us all morning until class."

"Well it wasn't Peeves," said Bertha's bespectacled friend, Monica Danes. "He's tormenting Moaning Myrtle on the second floor."

This kicked up a storm of excited comments as the table tried to come up with an explanation for the mysterious messes now that all the go-to troublemakers were off the table. Sirius waited until the theories had taken a turn for the ridiculous— Peeves' evil twin brother and a boggart who'd encountered Argus Filch, among others.

"Maybe it's a giant niffler," Sirius said offhandedly.

Several people laughed at this, just as intended. The pranksters couldn't very well give away their whole plan. James crossed his fingers under the table, hoping someone would take the bait. Sure enough—

"Wait!" Bertha exclaimed, eyes alight with excitement. "That's it!"

"What's it?" Petra Banville asked, rolling her eyes. "The Ministry did it? Or maybe the murderer from the Forbidden Forest decided to come and kill off a couple innocent desks?"

Bertha scowled indignantly. "Nifflers! I saw a whole heap of them on my way to Charms! I mean, I thought they were just rats at the time, but now that I think about it, they were _definitely_ nifflers!"

A short distance away, Lily Evans finally tuned into the conversation, looking perturbed. "We've got a niffler infestation?" she asked, aghast, even as most of the other Gryffindors rolled their eyes. It was, after all, Bertha Jorkins who had suggested it. "Has anyone told the professors?"

"Oh, calm down," said Petra, waving her fork dismissively. "There're no nifflers in Hogwarts."

But Lily was already on her feet and marching determinedly toward the staff table at the far end of the Hall. James and Sirius stifled their laughter as they watched her, positively gleeful that it was _Lily_ who would set the next phase of their plan into motion. A hush washed over the table as Lily approached Professor McGonagall, who frowned deeply as she listened to what Lily had to say, but nodded and left the Great Hall with the rest of the staff.

A few minutes later, Peter and Remus excused themselves to spend the afternoon in the library. (Peter actually _would_ be there for the next several hours, ready to tell anyone who asked that Remus was just finding a book they needed; Remus, meanwhile, would wander the castle causing mayhem.) James and Sirius hung back a while longer before leaving themselves. The plan was to ensure that the whole castle was talking about the nifflers, sending the professors scampering about, and generally enjoy their handiwork.

"Didn't expect to get the professors involved so soon," James admitted as they entered one of their more heavily-used secret passages. "I figured we'd have our hands full this afternoon."

Sirius nodded. "Hey, you think you can handle the professors by yourself?"

Frowning, James raised an eyebrow. "Sure. How come?"

"I thought I'd go help Remus out with the mess-making," he said. "I know he said he had it covered, but I practiced the spell and, well, two wands are better than one, right?"

James snickered as color rose in Sirius' cheeks. "I know you like making messes, Sirius, but are you sure you want to risk a detention? Remus has a better shot at getting off."

"I know…" Sirius shrugged. "I'll be more help to Remus than to you."

"So it's got nothing to do with feeling guilty about not doing enough to help Remus out with his whole… _moon_ thing?"

With a guilty grin, Sirius eyed James questioningly. "You too?"

"Yeah. I know he'd say we don't have to do anything, but…" James trailed off. "Go on. Tell Remus hullo for me."

-.-.-

James spent the next several hours wandering about, jumping into any conversation that seemed to involve the prank, however tangentially. As the day wore on, the student body became increasingly convinced that the rats they kept spotting in dark corridors and unused classrooms were nifflers. The prefects and a good number of conscientious students took it upon themselves to inform the professors of all reported sightings. By the time the adults had arrived, of course, the 'nifflers' had vanished, leaving ordinary rats in their wake, and no matter how much the staff believed the students had been mistaken, the students remained adamant. How else could they explain the wrecked classrooms?

Filch, the caretaker, seemed particularly frantic about the whole ordeal, perhaps because the trophy room had been trashed and cleaned up no fewer than three times. James didn't know whether it was Sirius getting back at Filch for all the detentions spent polishing the trophies or Remus doing the intelligent thing and going for the room with the highest concentration of shiny things.

Whoever was responsible, it had Filch in a tizzy as dinner approached. He was camped out with Mrs. Norris in the corridor by the trophy room, glaring at any student who walked past them and occasionally leaping into the air with a shout of triumph as a hapless rat wandered into sight. Mrs. Norris had a growing pile of dead rats at her side, and Filch stroked her proudly every time she added to it, praising her intelligence and resourcefulness in catching the "rotten little menaces." James wished he could stick around long enough to see someone inform Filch that his cat had not, in fact, caught a single niffler.

Filch's reaction may have been the most entertaining to watch, but it was by no means the prank's only result. James heard from the older students that Professor Kettleburn's Care of Magical Creatures lessons were being interrupted almost constantly by students who wanted to know if the animal they had captured was a niffler.

Professor McGonagall darted after rumored niffler sightings between classes, but she refused to let the infestation interrupt her lectures. Aside from a slightly mussed bun and a shorter temper than usual, she plodded on with Transfigurations as always. In the dungeons, meanwhile, Professor Slughorn had neglected the Gryffindor and Slytherin fourth years to barricade his office, where he kept gifts from past Slug Club members including, James suspected, a considerable number of silver and gold items.

Shortly after lunch, Hagrid had been called in to help with the niffler hunt so the professors could focus on their lessons. Hagrid's strategy was to set out shiny objects in the middle of empty rooms and hope they would attract the nifflers. It might have worked, had Hagrid not let himself get drawn into a conversation with Remus about the history of dragon breeding in Britain. Hagrid was so engrossed in the conversation that he didn't see Sirius slip into the room to steal the silver goblet Hagrid was using as niffler bait.

"Almost dinner time," James muttered as Sirius joined him in a secret passage around the corner from Hagrid's trap. After dinner, the professors would have the evening free to search for nifflers, so in order to avoid getting caught, the four boys had decided early on to wrap up before lessons let out for the day.

Sirius nodded, polishing the goblet on his sleeve. "Time for one last go, I think."

"As long as you're quick. If you're late for dinner, McGonagall will get suspicious."

They heard a shout from the corridor— evidently Hagrid had finally noticed the goblet's disappearance. Remus entered the passage a moment later, looking mildly guilty. He smiled at James.

"Dinnertime already?" he asked, glancing at his watch.

"You know what they say." Sirius grinned. "Time flies when you're having fun."

Remus chuckled, but didn't argue.

"Anyway," said James. "I was just going to find Peter and head down. Sirius wanted to hit one more room."

"You can go with James," Sirius cut in, ignoring the glare James shot his way. James did _not_ want to be alone with Peter and Remus for even five minutes. "There's a better than even chance I'm getting caught. No reason for you to get detention, too."

For a moment, Remus glanced uncertainly between James and Sirius, fiddling with his wand. Then he shook his head. "No, I'll come with you."

"Really?" James and Sirius asked together.

"Aren't you always saying it's the risk that makes it fun?" Remus shrugged. "Besides, it wouldn't be my first detention, and as long as I stick with the pair of you, it won't be my last."

Breaking into a delighted grin, Sirius pulled Remus into a one-armed hug and ruffled his hair. "Look at that, James! We've corrupted him!"

With a laugh, James pushed the hidden door open enough to scan the empty corridor. "Alright, well, have fun and don't get caught. See you."

He closed the door behind him and started toward the library, stopping once to ask Hagrid if he'd lost something. The large man glanced up from his position on the floor, where he had been searching the space beneath a large, dusty wardrobe – the only piece of furniture in the room. Hagrid assured him that he had everything handled. With a shrug, James went to find Peter.

The library was nearly empty when James arrived, sparing him from having to explain his presence (or Remus' absence) as he found Peter and helped him clean up. James felt Madam Pince's pointed glare on the back of his neck, and he got the impression the woman was waiting for him to make a commotion so she could give him the detention he'd escaped the previous week.

"Wonder how many times we could kick up a fuss before she bans us for life?" James mused once they reached the safety of the corridor.

Peter rolled his eyes. "If you ever decide to find out, James, do me a favor and warn me so I can be far, _far_ away."

James promised that he would, and the pair made their way to the Great Hall, which was already packed with students. By the time James and Peter found seats and loaded their plates with food, everyone seemed to have arrived except for Remus and Sirius. James noticed with some trepidation that McGonagall's usual seat at the staff table was also vacant.

"You think they got caught?" Peter asked, following James' gaze.

James shushed him, but when he saw that no one was paying attention to them, he said, "No way. Sirius knows when to run for it, and Remus could talk his way out of a dragon's nest."

Peter nodded, turning back to his soup. "Yeah…"

It was hardly five minutes later, and James had not yet begun to worry, when Sirius and Remus appeared in the doorway and hurried over. McGonagall, too, appeared and took her place at the staff table.

James eyed the sour-faced professor warily as Remus and Sirius sat down beside him. "What happened?"

Remus and Sirius exchanged glances and, to James' surprise, started laughing.

"Sirius—" Remus shot the other boy a glare, but the effect was lost in another fit of laughter— "got it into his head that it'd be fun to give Professor McGonagall's office a makeover."

Sirius grinned as James' jaw dropped. "_That's _what you were doing?" James demanded. "Blimey, Sirius, you're madder than I thought!"

Apparently taking this as a complement, Sirius puffed up a bit, still chuckling smugly. "You bet I am! And we did a number on it, James; you should've seen it!"

"The only problem," Remus went on, trying (and failing) to look angry, "was when McGonagall walked in on us."

Sirius' laughter redoubled at this, and he clutched at his side as he gasped, "Her face, James! It was priceless!" He did an exaggerated imitation of it, puckering his lips and blowing out his cheeks. He held his breath until his face began to turn purple, and then he gave James a bug-eyed glare that sent all three of his friends into hysterics.

"So how bad was it?" James asked when he could breathe once more.

"Eh, hard to say." Sirius regarded McGonagall thoughtfully. "She was completely flustered when she found us; couldn't make out a word she was saying. So we've got to go back to her office after dinner to sort out our punishment. I'm guessing a week of detention."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," said Remus as he buttered his roll. "I think she found it all rather amusing until she saw what we'd done to her office."

"You think?"

Remus shrugged. "I've seen her lecture you lot enough to realize that she goes white when she's mad, not pink. I think she was trying not to laugh."

"Hm…" Sirius drummed his fingers on the table. With a wicked grin, he glanced around at the others. "New mission, gents. Before we graduate, we're going to make McGonagall laugh!"

-.-.-

"Only one?" Peter asked, amazed, when Sirius and Remus returned to the common room that evening.

James couldn't help thinking that Sirius looked more dejected than he had any right to after getting off with a single detention for turning McGonagall's office upside down. Remus, on the other hand, looked highly amused.

"A long one," said Remus, biting back a smirk. "But yes, only one."

Sirius stuck out his tongue at Remus. "You don't have to be so bloody annoying about it."

Remus's grin broadened.

Raising an eyebrow, James glanced between the two of them curiously. "I'm missing something, aren't I?"

"Just that McGonagall hates me!" Sirius cried, crossing his arms over his chest.

With a laugh, Remus explained: "My detention's tomorrow night at eight, but Professor McGonagall decided to make Sirius get up at five in the morning for his. I think she realized that he can turn just about anything into a joke, so she's hoping sleep deprivation will teach him a lesson."

"Looks like it's working," James said, chuckling as Sirius continued to sulk.

But when Remus left to get his homework from the dormitory, James and Sirius exchanged somber looks.

Peter frowned at them both. "What?"

"His detention's tomorrow night?" James asked.

Sirius nodded. "He supposedly won't get back till after midnight, so he's sure to tell us not to wait up for him, and you _know_ he always gets up hours before us on the weekend."

"And he spends enough time alone in the library that he could make up the detention later," James added. "If McGonagall makes him do it at all."

Biting his lip, Peter reached up to loosen his tie. "You still think he's a—"

"_Shh!_" James and Sirius hissed as they heard Remus' footsteps on the stairs. Peter shot them both a resentful glower, but fell silent at Remus rejoined them. They didn't speak another word about Remus or his detention for the rest of the night.

-.-.-

"You know, I've just thought of something," said Sirius through a yawn the following evening when Remus went to put away his homework so he could leave for his detention.

"What's that?" James asked distractedly as he reread the Potions essay he'd been working on that day (at Remus' insistence.)

After another, longer yawn, Sirius replied, "I think Remus _wanted_ me to have detention early this morning. He had to have known that it'd make me too tired to go exploring tonight. Otherwise he'd have to worry about us staying out too late and realizing he wasn't coming back."

Peter gave a small cough from the other size of the table.

Rolling his eyes, James set down his quill and rubbed his hand. "Don't be ridiculous, Sirius. Remus wouldn't do that to you."

"Even if _not_ doing it would risk exposing his secret?" Sirius asked.

"He's smart enough to think of something else," James pointed out. "He could've had the professors all be out tonight working on cleaning up our mess, or made sure Filch and that demon cat were out looking for nifflers – then we'd've had to come back early for sure."

Sirius considered this for a moment before shrugging. "I guess we'll never know. Not like it's a big deal, anyway. I mean, he didn't _try_ to get me in trouble with McGonagall; that was my own ruddy fault. Although, he _might_ have been trying to get himself in trouble by doing all the charmwork himself…" He tapped his quill against his chin. "He _did_ seem a bit put out when I told him I wanted to help."

"See?" James asked in a smug tone. "He wasn't planning on having you get detention at all, so he _must've_ had another way to keep us from sneaking out tonight. The five o'clock detention was all McGonagall's idea."

"He's coming back," Peter whispered, glancing nervously toward the door, and the other two resumed their homework at once.

"You're actually still working?" Remus asked suspiciously as he reentered the common room.

James looked up and grinned. "Don't worry, Remus! We'll stop as soon as the portrait shuts behind you!"

Remus laughed. "I'm sure you will. Well, I'm off. See you in the morning."

"Sure you don't want us to wait up?" Sirius asked innocently.

"That's alright," Remus said, turning toward the portrait. "I'll be late, and I'll just go to bed as soon as I'm back, anyway."

"It's no trouble." James spoke less out of goodwill than to see how Remus would react— whether he would show any signs of nervousness or guilt.

Remus stopped halfway to the portrait and turned around, already shaking his head. "No, really," he said, giving them a small smile. "I don't even know how long it'll take, and if you stay up late tonight, you'll just have even more of a lie-in tomorrow than you normally would, and then we'll miss out on whatever trouble you lot decide to stir up next."

If James didn't know better, he would have said Remus' insistence was entirely innocent. He didn't stutter or fiddle with his tie, and his excuses sounded perfectly reasonable. But James had seen Remus lie to McGonagall's face, so he noticed the flicker of unease that was well-hidden in Remus' amber eyes.

"Alright," James said, shrugging his shoulders. "If you're sure you don't mind."

"I don't. Honest." Remus relaxed – barely, but James caught it. With one last smile, Remus climbed out through the portrait hole and disappeared.

"Dormitory," James said at once. Sirius was already on his feet, tossing his things into his bag. Peter followed a little less enthusiastically, and they filed up the stairs and into the empty dormitory.

Peter sat sullenly on his bed, glaring at the other two. "Won't you just give it a rest already?"

James rolled his eyes. "No, Peter, we won't."

"Don't you know us better than that?" Sirius teased. He sat down on his trunk as James began to pace the room.

"Look," said James. "Give us tonight. If we can't convince you tonight, we'll lay off for a while, alright?"

With a suspicious frown, Peter studied his friends as though weighing the likelihood that James was telling the truth. "Well… Alright, _fine_." He stretched out on his bed and eyed them both expectantly. "How are you going to prove it?"

"There's the obvious," Sirius suggested. "We could go down to Hogsmeade and check out the Shack again."

Peter shook his head emphatically. "No way. No. I'm not going down there again!"

Grimacing, James nodded. "Sorry, Sirius, but I'm with Peter on this one. I don't want to hear Remus screaming like that again."

"Neither do I." Sirius bit his lip. "But we can't just pretend it's not happening, just so we can feel better. If Remus can't get away from it, why should we?"

These words stopped James in his tracks, and he scuffed his feet across the rug, hating that he wasn't strong enough to face the suffering of one of his best friends. Some Gryffindor he was. A few feet away, Peter sat staring fixedly at his hands. Neither one had an answer for Sirius.

"Not tonight, Sirius," James said at last, softly, trying to pretend he didn't feel like a horrible friend for staying in the castle, where everything was safe and happy and easy to deal with. "I can't do it tonight."

After a moment, Sirius nodded. "Alright. I guess it wouldn't prove anything we don't already know, anyhow."

Peter gave an audible sigh of relief. "So what then?"

"Simple," said James. "We wait up."

"But Remus said—"

"Remus said not to wait up, I know." James resumed his pacing – from his bed, to the door to the toilets, to Remus' bed in the corner. "That's because he's not planning on coming back tonight, and he doesn't want us to realize."

"So if we stay up," Sirius added, "and he never turns up, then we know he wasn't at detention."

Peter frowned. "That's it? We sit here?"

"Course that's not _it_, Pete." Sirius rolled off his trunk to the floor, where he dug around under his bed for the lunar charts he and James had hidden there earlier in the week. "We're going to figure out exactly when Remus was gone every time we can think of, and we're going to see whether we've ever seen him on the night of the full moon."

"And _this time_," James added sternly, "you're actually going to pay attention."

Peter groaned, but when James reminded him that he'd promised them one night to convince him, he reluctantly joined the others on Sirius' bed, where they spent the next several hours arguing and debating and narrowing down dates until they were as sure as possible when Remus had been absent.

Although he already knew what to expect, James found he wasn't entirely prepared for what they found. He had already accepted that all the times Remus had claimed to be visiting his mother, he'd actually been in the Shrieking Shack and recovering in the Hospital Wing. He knew that the pallor and stiffness and fatigue were from the stress of the transformation and the wounds he'd inflicted on himself while in his furry form.

He wasn't comfortable with the idea by any means, but he'd already had some time to come to grips with those months.

But James had never gone through the past two years month-by-month before, and every time they discussed the next full moon, it hit James afresh. He hadn't realized that there had been a full moon the night after their first-ever flying lesson – that was why Remus had looked so unsteady on his broom, and why he'd had to spend the night in the Hospital Wing after Gilderoy Lockhart crashed into him, even though as far as anyone knew, Remus had only suffered a broken arm.

He hadn't realized that another full moon had fallen the night of a mishap in their Defense class first year, when Remus and several other students had been attacked by Red Caps, Kappas, and Cornish Pixies. And then, during the Easter Holidays, just two days after James, Sirius, and Peter had found Remus brooding in the Defense classroom at midnight— another full moon. James remembered giving Remus a hard time about his excursion that night, and they had got into a row and blamed each other for the attacks that had been taking place.

Worst of all was the May full moon of the previous year. Upon noticing Remus' empty bed in the morning, James and his friends had scoured the castle in search of him. They had found him in the Hospital Wing, his arm broken, his body covered in bandages through which James could see dark red splotches from fresh wounds. It was the soonest after the full moon James had seen Remus (though of course he hadn't realized it at the time), and he wouldn't soon forget it.

By the time they finished, it was after one o'clock in the morning. Frank Longbottom and Alexander Thorne had long since gone to bed, but Remus' bed remained empty.

"You see, Peter?" James asked softly. "What sort of detention lasts this long? He's been gone almost six hours, and curfew was at ten!"

"He's always gone during the full moon," Sirius added, "and half the time he comes back looking like hell."

"He's a werewolf." James' voice only quavered a little as he spoke, and he met Peter's eyes evenly. "There's no other explanation."

Peter shook his head, avoiding his friends' eyes. His hands balled into fists in his lap and his shoulders trembled. "No," he whispered, desperate, obviously finding it difficult to deny the truth in the face of so much proof. "No, he can't be! Th-they wouldn't let something like that in a school!"

"_Something like what?_" Eyes as cold and as hard as iron, Sirius seemed to swell until he loomed over Peter, who cringed away from him. "Go on, Peter. Tell us what you meant."

"Sirius…" James warned.

Peter looked small and frightened, but after swallowing several times and licking his lips nervously, he spoke in a small, squeaky voice: "Y-you know what werewolves are. They say they're one of the most dangerous dark creatures—"

"DANGEROUS!" Sirius roared, and James hoped the quieting charms were strong enough that he hadn't woken Frank or Alexander. "_Dangerous?_ You think Remus— Remus Lupin, the bloke who conjured that shield when Lynx tried to hex me with_ Diffindo_— who got the Whomping Willow to stop bludgeoning Davey into paste— who spun that story for McGonagall so the rest of us didn't get caught— You think he's a bloody _dangerous dark creature?_"

Seeing Peter's terrorized expression, James opted for a gentler approach. "Come on, Peter. You know him better than that."

Peter pulled a face. "And what about during the full moon? You think he's harmless _then_?"

"What does it matter what he's like then?" James asked, shaking his head. "He spends the whole night in the Shrieking Shack, doesn't he? It's not like he's transforming in the toilets!"

"You didn't see!" Peter whimpered, trembling more violently now. His hands moved to grasp his hair, and he shook his head vehemently. "You didn't see the pictures in that book! Do you know what werewolves do to the people they attack? I do!"

Sirius lunged forward as though to strangle Peter, who yelped and threw himself behind James. "_That happened to Remus_!" Sirius cried, even as James grabbed him around the shoulders and wrestled him away from Peter. "Whatever you saw, Peter, it happened to Remus when he got bit! You _know_ he'd never let himself do that to anyone else, but someone did it to him!"

"You've got to understand," James urged, twisting to fix Peter with a pleading look. "Remus is the victim in all this. Remus is the one that's hurting. He needs us, Peter!"

But Peter merely scrambled off the bed, shattering the privacy charms as he wrenched the curtains aside.

"Peter!" James hissed, chasing after him.

"Leave me alone!"

James grabbed his arm. "Wait!"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," Peter mumbled, pulling out of James' grasp. "I… I just can't. Not now. Please, James…"

And no matter how much James tried, Peter refused to listen to him any longer. Across the room, Alexander muttered something in his sleep, and with an anxious glance over his shoulder, James retreated to his bed, where Sirius sat staring stonily after Peter.

Moaning, James flopped down beside Sirius.

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, grimacing. "Well _that _could have got better."

* * *

**A/N: There's always another side of the story... James and Sirius only see Remus, the victim, but Peter has seen another, darker side of lycanthropy, and he can't pretend it doesn't exist. Chapter 6 of _Wormtail's Story -_ "Blood is Thicker" - is up.**


	23. Changes

**A/N: If you haven't read the latest chapter of _Wormtail's Story_ (Chapter 6), go read it. Right now. Before you read this chapter. Because this chapter is best enjoyed with some understanding of what's going through Peter's head.  
**

**Have you read it? No? I'm serious. Go read it.  
**

**Done? Okay, carry on!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 23: Changes**

After the exceptionally late night waiting up for Remus (James and Sirius had talked for several more hours after Peter went to bed, before finally passing out near dawn), James fully expected to sleep through lunch, but it was not to be. The sunlight was still the watery yellow-gold of midmorning when the dormitory door burst open and a pair of loud, agitated voices startled James awake.

"Get up!" Frank Longbottom called, yanking back James' bed hangings. "Come on, James! Everyone's got to be down in the common room!"

"You too, Sirius!" added Alexander Thorne somewhere nearby. The only response was a groan. "Something's happened!"

Involuntarily, James' thoughts went to Remus in the Shrieking Shack. He shot upright in bed, narrowly avoiding a collision with Frank's head. Trembling, James reached for his spectacles, even as he demanded, "What? What's going on?"

"I don't know," said Frank, hurrying toward Peter's bed. "Peter, you up? We were down at breakfast when all of a sudden Professor Dumbledore stood up and told us all to go back to our common rooms."

"What for?" Sirius, too, seemed to have come fully awake, and he hastily pulled on his dressing gown and slippers as Frank coaxed Peter out of bed.

Alexander, who looked unnaturally pale, shook his head. "Someone said there's been an attack."

"_What?_" Halfway through putting on his slippers, James launched to his feet and nearly fell flat on his face as he tripped over his sheets.

"That's what they said." Alexander ran a hand through his short blond hair and blew out a long breath. "Louise Holoway was sitting by us – she gets the _Prophet_ – and there was a picture of Hogsmeade on the front page and—"

"Hogsmeade?" Sirius shot James a frightened glance. James knew they were thinking the same thing: could Remus be involved in this? Either as a victim or— James wouldn't let himself think it. _He wouldn't do that. Even on a full moon._

Evidently unaware of the exchange, Frank nodded. "I didn't have a chance to read it, but people are saying someone's died."

There was a knock on the door, and it opened to reveal Eliot Donovan, a prefect, who looked as pale as the rest of them but managed to keep his voice level as he said, "Professor McGonagall wants everyone in the common room."

The five second years streamed toward the door. James' mouth ran dry, and he drifted closer to Sirius as they followed Eliot down the stairs. He wanted to say something, anything, to reassure Sirius— to reassure _himself_— but he found he couldn't form the words. He desperately hoped they would find Remus in the common room.

"That's everyone from the boys' dormitories, professor," said Eliot as they squeezed into the crowded common room. With all of Gryffindor present, there was hardly room to breathe, let alone search for a familiar face. James could only see the people nearest him – Rhonda Red and Margret Salano, his fellow Chasers, stood near the stairs to the girls' dormitories; Sturgis Podmore and his friends stood in a tight cluster between Bertha Jorkins, who was already spewing a stream of gossip about how the Ministry had shut Hogwarts down and was sending them all home, and Davey Gudgeon, who looked fit to faint.

First and second years perched on the backs of couches to see over the heads of the sixth and seventh years, who stood silent and solemn. Every eye gazed toward the portrait hole, where James could make out the very top of McGonagall's black bun.

"Where is he?" Sirius hissed in his ear. Gripping James' shoulder for balance, Sirius rose up onto his toes and peered around the room. "I can't – bloody – _see anything_!"

A few people turned curiously toward this outburst, but the buzz of conversation in the room had swelled to thunderous levels, and evidently one unbalanced second year wasn't interesting enough to hold anyone's attention for long. James thought he could hear McGonagall's voice through the din, but her words were lost in the chaos. At length, she raised her wand and let out a wave of white light that swept over them all, silencing conversations at once.

"Last night," McGonagall said in a strained voice that nevertheless carried easily to the corners of the room, "there was an attack in Hogsmeade."

A few whispers drifted through the common room, but the students shushed each other impatiently and waited attentively for McGonagall to go on.

"I regret to say that the owner of Tomes and Scrolls was killed in the attack, and his wife has been taken to St. Mungo's." McGonagall paused briefly to let this information sink in. Around the room, there were stifled sobs and murmurs of dismay from those who had visited the bookshop during Hogsmeade weekends. Louise clapped a hand to her mouth and swayed on the spot.

"Aurors were called in," McGonagall continued, "and the attacker fled shortly thereafter."

"They didn't catch him?" Sturgis gasped, and unease spread through the room like vapor.

"He's still out there?"

"How'd he get away?"

"Who _was_ it?"

A frosty silence followed this question. McGonagall hesitated and then said, very tersely, "I'm afraid I can't tell you that."

James' heart gave an odd little twinge, and he glanced over at Sirius and Peter. Something wasn't right here. But they didn't have a chance to discuss their misgivings, for at that moment, Bertha gave a strangled cry.

"Oh my Merlin! It was You-Know-Who!"

Those nearest Bertha, who realized this declaration had come from Hogwarts' biggest gossip, scoffed, but others gasped and shouted in alarm. One girl burst into tears as many of the younger students asked their friends who, exactly, You-Know-Who _was_.

Through the shifting bodies, James saw McGonagall frown. "I never—"

"Of course not!" Bertha cut across, and James had to admire her gall. "You wouldn't say who's responsible because the Ministry doesn't want us knowing about him at all!"

Petra rolled her eyes. "So how do _you_ know about him, Bertha?"

"No, it's true!" said Harvey Cross. "My mum screamed herself hoarse when my dad let it slip to me and my sister."

Kendrick Hattan shifted, his hand drifting to his wand. "So, wait, it really _was_ Voldemort?"

Dozens of voices shushed him at once.

"I can call him whatever I want," Kendrick huffed. "I'm of age."

"But not everyone here is, Mr. Hattan," McGonagall said firmly. "And the Minsiter has asked us all to use discretion when speaking of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"How come?" asked Hestia Jones, a first year with wide green eyes.

Squat-faced Stewart Jackson smirked. "It's 'cause they don't want you worrying your darling little head about it, what with all the murders."

"Jackson!" McGonagall snapped. "_All_ of you, mind you hold your tongues. I won't ask you again."

Madison Ellerty looked shaken. "So it's true?"

"Can't be," said April Rohrs. "You-Know-Who only attacks muggles."

"Not anymore."

James wasn't sure who had made this last comment, but it set the room off once again. Several students began sniffling and muttering about wanting to go home, while older students' wands appeared suddenly in their hands, as though they wanted to go in search of Voldemort themselves. There was a _BANG!_ and after a few startled yelps, the room fell silent.

"We do not believe the school is in immediate danger," McGonagall said, "but in the interest of safety, we will be instigating additional precautions. Until further notice, all Hogsmeade visits and Quidditch events are cancelled."

There was an uproar at this as the entire Quidditch team (besides James, who was only half-listening as he continued to search the crowd for Remus) protested; McGonagall released another burst of light from her wand and still had to shout to make herself heard as she continued.

"Professor Kettleburn has also moved his Care of Magical Creatures lessons to classroom five for the time being, and Professor Sprout asks that all Herbology classes meet in the Entrance Hall so she can accompany you to the greenhouses. Until the murderer is caught, no one is to leave the castle without a professor accompanying them. I would remind you all that school rules still apply and are more important now than ever."

Though he couldn't see McGonagall's face, James had a sneaking suspicion that this last comment was intended for him and Sirius more than the rest of their housemates. But at the moment, James couldn't care less about sneaking out to the Forbidden Forest or to Hogsmeade or even down to the kitchens. The only place he would be sneaking in the foreseeable future was to wherever Remus was hiding.

"You are, of course, still free to go where you will in the castle," McGonagall went on. "We only ask that you exercise caution, and should you notice anyone suspicious in or around the school, don't hesitate to inform me or one of the other professors. If you have any questions, you may ask them now or come see me later. My office is always open."

The common room descended at once into chaos. Some students turned to their friends to discuss the attack; others streamed toward McGonagall and began to pepper her with questions about where they were allowed to go and whether they would be sent home early and how the professors knew that Voldemort wouldn't try to enter the castle. The rest of the students made their way toward the dormitory stairs or out through the portrait hole, no doubt seeking a quieter place to think.

-.-.-

"Think it really is Voldemort behind this?" James asked in a low voice once McGonagall had left. The common room remained crowded and noisy, and no one seemed to notice the three boys lurking by the stairs.

Peter looked as though he were trying to disappear. "She didn't deny it," he pointed out weakly.

"She didn't confirm it, either," Sirius said. "She just let us think what we were already thinking."

"She must've known how much panic it would cause," James mused, watching the pale students around him. One girl was begging her friends to go to the owlery with her because she was too frightened to leave Gryffindor Tower alone; a boy across the way eyed the windows as though Voldemort might burst through the glass at any moment. James frowned. "You've got to wonder what's so awful about the truth, if they'd rather blame _him_."

"You don't think…" Looking ill, Sirius fell silent.

"What?" James asked.

Sirius gave him a pointed look and opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Frowning, James shook his head. "Sirius, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Sirius wet his lips several times before he managed to ask, "Who was in Hogsmeade last night? Who would the professors want to protect?"

Peter gasped. "They wouldn't— He couldn't have—"

"He didn't," James snapped, glaring at Sirius as he realized what the other boy was suggesting. "You _know_ he wouldn't." _Remus isn't like that._ "Besides, what makes you think the professors know?"

"I'll bet you a hundred galleons that Dumbledore knows, at least." Sirius glanced over his shoulder nervously. "He knows everything. And someone's got to get him to and from the Shack."

James hesitated. It would make sense for Dumbledore to know of Remus' condition, and the Headmaster would surely try to protect a student if, when he was outside his own control, he…

"No." James crossed his arms stubbornly. "You're wrong."

"_James_," Sirius hissed.

Peter suddenly let out a frightened squeak and ducked behind a cluster of sixth years standing nearby. James and Sirius stopped glaring at each other to frown at Peter, who shook his head wordlessly and inched farther away.

"What's his problem?" James asked aloud.

Sirius stiffened and raised a hand to point toward the portrait hole. "_That_."

Remus stood there, pale and shaking, his eyes darting to and fro, taking in the crowded common room and the small, nervous clusters of students. James spotted a red-streaked bandage peeking out the end of Remus' sleeve, and the boy walked with a noticeable limp as he started across the room.

Beside James, Sirius drew in a sharp breath. James turned to look at Sirius, who looked oddly relieved to see Remus.

"It wasn't him," James whispered, returning his eyes to Remus, who had yet to spot his friends through the crowd.

Sirius smiled weakly. "I know."

This sudden change of tune caught James by surprise, but he didn't have a chance to ask Sirius what he meant, for Sirius promptly stepped forward, waving his hand over his head. Remus blinked several times and looked at Sirius for a long moment, then shuffled over, murmuring apologies whenever he bumped into another student.

"Hey," said Sirius. "You hear about the attack?"

Remus nodded.

"It's mad, isn't it?" Sirius ran his fingers through his hair. "You don't expect something like that to happen so close to Hogwarts. Blimey— what if it was the same bloke we heard in the Forest?"

Shuddering, Remus leaned closer to James and Sirius – but his eyes were distant, his face ashen, and James wondered if the gesture had been unconscious. James and Sirius traded worried looks, and James decided that what his friend really needed right now was a big breakfast and a mug of cocoa. He turned to ask Peter to wait with Remus in the dormitory while they went to the kitchens… but Peter wasn't there.

Frowning, James searched for his missing friend, and found him halfway across the room with Frank and Alexander. Peter stood with his back to James, deeply engaged in whatever topic of conversation they had settled on.

"Hey, Sirius." James tried to keep his voice light so Remus wouldn't notice anything was wrong. "How about I go and get us some breakfast? You and Remus can go wait in the dormitory." Remus seemed not to hear James, but Sirius caught the dark undertone to his words and met James' eyes questioningly.

James indicated Peter with a nod, and Sirius scowled. He looked like he wanted to storm across the room and confront Peter then and there, but James caught his arm. Their eyes locked in silent argument, broken only when Peter, Frank, and Alexander suddenly turned toward the portrait hole.

"Sirius," James hissed. "Don't."

But Sirius ignored him and stalked after Peter. Groaning, James hurried after him. Remus remained where he was, too lost in thought to notice that his friends were leaving.

"Peter!"

Frank and Alexander turned at the sound of Sirius' voice, but Peter kept walking, resolutely ignoring his friends.

James forced a smile as he clambered through the portrait hole after Sirius. "Mind if we borrow Peter for a minute?"

"No, that's fine," said Frank. He turned to Peter, who had stopped walking, but kept his back to the others. Frank frowned. "We'll meet you in the library, alright?"

Slowly, Peter nodded, and Frank and Alexander set off down the stairs.

Sirius grabbed Peter's arm and led the way to a secret passage around the corner. Once they were inside, he released Peter and scowled. "Where are you going?"

"Library," Peter muttered, avoiding his friends' eyes. "It's too loud in the common room. I'm getting a headache."

Sirius snorted and opened his mouth to speak, but James was faster: "Remus didn't attack anyone, Pete."

Peter shook his head. "You don't know that."

"Yes we do." Sirius gave a grim smile. "He's still alive, isn't he?"

Peter's eyes snapped up to focus on Sirius, and even James felt his heart skip a beat.

"W-what do you mean?" Peter asked.

"Do you know what the Ministry does to werewolves who attack people on the full moon?"

"They kill them," James whispered. He felt lightheaded and sagged against the wall. "If Remus was responsible for last night, they would've killed him!"

Sirius nodded. "When he wasn't in the common room, I thought…" He hesitated, but the others didn't need to hear the rest of the sentence.

Pressing his palms to his eyes, Peter shook his head. "Maybe they just don't know."

"Don't be thick, Peter!" Sirius snapped. "They'd know if a werewolf killed someone two bloody miles from the school. They'd tell all our parents. We'd've been sent home straight away!"

"We'd've been sent home if it was You-Know-Who," Peter said.

Siruis nodded. "I know. They aren't telling us who's really behind the attack, but that doesn't mean it was Remus."

"You've gotta believe us, Peter," James said, clasping Peter's shoulder. "Remus hasn't done anything."

Shrugging, Peter turned away. "Yeah, alright." He didn't sound convinced. "Listen, I said I'd meet Frank and Alex in the library, so…"

Not waiting for a response, Peter scurried off down the secret passage.

Sirius turned and kicked the wall.

"Bugger," James muttered. "And just when we finally convinced him we were right." Peter was already hung up on the pictures he'd seen of werewolf attack victims, and now with the attack in Hogsmeade, James feared that was all Peter would be able to think of. "It'll take time for him to get past this."

Groaning, Sirius leaned his forehead against the stone. "We don't have _time_ for Peter to be an idiot now! Whatever happened last night scared Remus— did you see him shaking in there, James? If I didn't know better, I'd say he _saw_ what happened!"

"He needs us." James glanced after Peter, unease bubbling in his gut. He didn't want to leave Peter like this, but it would be hard enough to deal with one traumatized friend. Sighing, James turned back to Sirius. "Let's focus on Remus for now. Once he's got past… whatever it is that happened last night, then we'll bring Peter 'round."

"One numpty at a time, eh?" Sirius managed a thin smile that soon faded. "I'll go get the food."

James nodded. "I'll take Remus up to the dormitory."

"See you there, then."

-.-.-

When James returned to the common room, he found Remus standing in the same place he'd been when James had left. With some prompting, he convinced Remus to go up to the dormitory, where the boy perched on the very edge of his bed and stared into space, ignoring James' attempts at conversation.

Sirius returned a few minutes later with toast and bacon and three cups of cocoa. Remus clutched his cup so tightly James was afraid he would break it, but he never raised it to his lips. His food sat untouched on the bedside table until, an hour later, he wordlessly set his stone cold cocoa aside, curled up on his side, and pulled his blankets over his head.

James and Sirius sat in the dormitory for the rest of the day watching their friend who, James suspected, was only feigning sleep in order to avoid having to explain his unsettling behavior.

-.-.-

The next weeks crept by in dull tension. James wouldn't have thought it possible – to feel bored while half the school lived on edge, waiting for the next murder, and Remus went about things like a shell of himself, speaking little and smiling less. But with no Quidditch, no midnight Hogsmeade visits, and precious little fresh air, James and Sirius were getting restless. The anxiety didn't leave them entirely unaffected, but when they worried, it was for Remus' well-being, rather than their own safety. Each night after Remus went to bed, James and Sirius sat up watching him. They would, occasionally, toss out ideas as to what had shaken him so terribly, but mostly they sat in silence.

All the while, Peter ignored his three friends' presence in the dormitory, in classes, and at meals. He now spent nearly all his time with Frank and Alexander, and when he ran into James, Sirius, or Remus, he averted his eyes, ducked his head, and hurried on. Once or twice, James tried to talk to him, but Peter would just mumble that he was busy and slip away.

It was almost enough to drive James mad.

Almost. Except that Remus _was_ improving, if only slowly. After the first day, he emerged from whatever world he'd lost himself in, and although he didn't say much, he would at least look James and Sirius in the eyes when they spoke to him, and would nod or shake his head in response to their questions. By Wednesday, he was able to focus throughout the day's lessons and take his usual, thorough notes. On Sunday, a week after the attack, Remus managed a full, almost normal, conversation over breakfast.

But the biggest stride forward came on the twenty-ninth of April, the last day of the Easter Holidays and a full two weeks after the attack. They were in the dormitory, as usual, working on the homework they'd been putting off all week (or, in Remus' case, reading the third year Ancient Runes book), when an owl fluttered in through the open window. James, Remus, and Sirius look up curiously. The owl dropped a scroll of parchment in Sirius' lap and departed as quickly as it had arrived.

Setting aside his essay, which James saw was covered in doodles of lions and dead snakes, Sirius unrolled the letter. A grin split his face.

"It's from Andy!"

"Your cousin?" Remus asked.

Sirius nodded, reading through the letter. "She got married last summer, to Ted Tonks – the muggle-born Hufflepuff? Got her blasted off my family tree, which is a sight more than I've managed. Keep telling her I'm jealous, but she won't tell me how to get disowned myself."

With a snort, Remus turned back to his book. James and Sirius, who sat together on Sirius' bed, exchanged triumphant grins. This was the closest to laughter they'd yet teased out of Remus, and after two weeks of blank stares and horribly fake smiles, it was just about the best sound James could imagine.

"What's she say?" James asked.

Sirius paused to read the letter, and his smile grew wider still. "They have a baby!"

"Really?" James laughed. "That's great!"

Remus, too, looked up in apparent interest. "Boy or girl?"

"Girl. Andy says she's a… meta-morph-magus." He pronounced this word carefully, obviously unfamiliar with it. When Sirius glanced his way, James shook his head.

"No idea, mate."

"A metamorphmagus is someone who can change their appearance," said Remus. There was a light in his eyes James hadn't seen there since before the last full moon. "I've read about them, of course, but they're extraordinarily rare. If Andromeda's daughter really is a metamorphmagus, she'll be the first in Britain in a hundred years!"

Snickering, James elbowed Sirius. "I think you'll have to introduce him to your baby cousin, Sirius, or he might just die of curiosity."

"I think you're right, James."

Remus blushed. "No, that's alright. I-I mean, I don't really know Ted and Andromeda that well. I'm sure they wouldn't want a stranger ogling their baby."

"Don't be ridiculous," said James. "Go over. Get to know them. _Then_ ogle their baby."

The beginnings of a smile tugged at Remus' lips, but he shook his head. "I wouldn't want to impose…"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "We'll go over this summer, all together. And you haven't got a choice in the matter."

When Remus opened his mouth to protest, James cut him off. "What's her name?"

"Nymphadora," Sirius said, scowling. "Poor kid."

James made a face. "That's a rotten name."

"_I_ think it's clever," said Remus. At his friends' incredulous looks, Remus continued. "Nymphadora," he said, as though hearing it again would make it less horrid. "It means 'gift of the nymphs.'"

"That's nice," Sirius said. "It's still a terrible name. Very Black, though, I'll give her that. Don't think there's a star called Nymphadora, but then, all the best star names all ended up going to the worst of my relatives. It's a bit odd, come to think of it. I've got this great-great-aunt, Lyra, and she was madder than Lynx. Killed both her brothers so she'd be heir to her father's fortune. And Maia – my fourth cousin or some-such; I think she's a Crabbe now – used to wear muggle bones in her hair. I always wondered where she got them, but you don't ask that in my family, so I've got to assume the worse.

"Then there's Great Aunt Bia," Sirius said, ignoring the disgusted looks that passed between James and Remus at the mention of Maia Crabbe's macabre accessories. "I swear she must be adopted, she's so nice. Anyway, we all call her _Bia_ 'cause her name's awful, even by Black standards."

"_How_ awful?" James asked.

Sirius grinned. "Sadachbia."

James grimaced. "I'd rather be a Nymphadora." He glanced at Remus, whose attention had drifted back to his homework. Not wanting to lose the good humour the conversation had instilled in Remus, James said, "Sorry, Remus. What were you saying? Something about nymphs."

Remus looked up again and nodded. "A nymph is a kind of fey," he said. "A fairy, as the muggles would say, although they aren't really the same thing. Fairies are much smaller than fey, for one, more closely related to sprites and pixies. I don't know how muggles came to think fairies and fey are the same thing in the first place, but they did."

James raised his eyebrow. "Thanks for the lesson, Professor, but what has that got to do with Andromeda's awful choice in names?"

Smiling at the good-natured jibe, Remus stood and crossed to his desk, where he picked up a book called _Muggle Mythology and Its Magical Roots_. "Muggles have stories about fairies – fey, really; nymphs and such – exchanging their infants for human ones."

"What would they want to do that for?" asked Sirius.

"Any number of reasons." Remus flipped through the book. "Because they thought the human baby was beautiful, or strong, or because they wanted their own child to grow up in the human world. Here—" He turned the book so James and Sirius could see a drawing of an odd-looking wood nymph taking a baby out of a crib. "The muggles call these fairy babies changelings, and in Welsh mythology, they say that the changelings initially have a glamour over them so they look human. As the days go on, it starts to fade, and the baby changes its appearance." He smiled. "_Nymphadora_ – the gift of the nymphs – would be a changeling, which really isn't so different from a metamorphmagus. It's a clever little nod to her muggle heritage, as well as her magical abilities."

For a moment, Sirius stared at Remus. Then he laughed. "Well, that settles it! You're coming to the Tonkses' this summer with me. That way, Andy can meet the only other person in the world who will _ever_ like the name Nymphadora."

-.-.-

After the news of Nymphadora Tonks' birth, Remus' recovery proceeded rapidly. When Sirius wasn't ribbing Remus about liking what Sirius considered the worst name in the history of baby-making, Remus was telling his friends all about muggle mythology. Despite his initial misgivings, James found the subject quite interesting – in nothing else, the half-truths and vast misconceptions that kept cropping up were always good for a laugh.

But it was Sirius, surprisingly, who delved into Remus' borrowed Muggle Studies books most eagerly, learning all he could about non-magical life. He told his friends about a boy down the street from him, Walter, whose house Sirius liked to visit. James and Remus listened to his tales of "bikes" and "irons" (which was not, as in the wizarding world, another word for shackles, but a clever device muggles used to get wrinkles out of their clothing). Sirius' favourite topic to discuss was a programme he watched on a "telly" at Walter's house.

"I'm taking Muggle Studies next year for sure," Sirius pronounced the day classes took up again. "My mum will kill me, and if it's a choice between tellies and… I don't know, crystal balls or whatever, I'll take the telly any day."

-.-.-

"How do you suppose Remus gets into the Shrieking Shack each month?" James asked. He and Sirius were alone in the dormitory on the first day of May, a Tuesday, and James' idle thoughts had stirred up more questions than he could keep to himself. He'd checked the lunar charts and seen that there were only two full moons left this term, and James had begun to wonder what the transformations were like for Remus at home – who tended his wounds after the moon set? Where did Remus spend the night? Was it as safe as the Shrieking Shack? As notorious among the muggles of Creetown as the Shack was among the wizards of Hogsmeade?

This, of course, had brought James to the subject of the Shack, and how Remus got in. James and Sirius were no Aurors, but they had tried every spell they knew, to no avail. Wherever the entrance was, it was well protected – or well hidden.

Sirius, who lay face-up on his bed, eyes closed, gave an awkward shrug. "Who knows? Dumbledore probably has some clever trick to get in."

James grunted. After a pause, he asked, "D'you think Dumbledore is the only one who knows, or do all the professors?"

"They can't _all_ know," said Sirius. "Can you imagine if _Lynx_ knew he was teaching a werewolf?"

Grimacing, James nodded. "I suppose… But what about the others? McGonagall and everyone?"

"I dunno." Sirius' eyes finally opened, and he gave James a sidelong glance. "We'll have to ask Remus after we tell him we've figured it out. What's with all the questions?"

James ruffled his hair. "I've just been thinking about what Remus goes through every month."

Sirius' eyes darted toward Remus' bed. "We've got to tell him soon. I don't like keeping quiet about it."

"We can't tell him yet. Not with Peter still acting like a git."

"Well, Remus is down in the library right now." Sirius sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed. "And Peter's just in the common room. May as well knock some sense into him, right?"

James grinned.

-.-.-

"Peter!"

James watched with cruel satisfaction as Peter jumped, spilling ink over the essay he was writing. Frank and Alexander were nowhere to be seen.

"J-James!" cried Peter, turning around. "Sirius!" His eyes flickered toward the door.

Before the shorter boy could make a bid for freedom, Sirius grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. "We've got something to show you, Pete! Come up to the room with us for a tic."

Peter shook his head. "M-maybe in a bit. I've got to finish this essay…"

"It'll take two minutes, I swear." James grabbed Peter's other arm, and together, he and Sirius pulled Peter to the staircase.

Once they reached the dormitory, however, Peter broke free.

"What do you want?"

"You to stop being a git," said Sirius flatly.

Peter scowled.

"Look, Pete." James pushed his spectacles up and gave Peter a thin smile. "I know you were… surprised when we found out Remus is a—" James dropped his voice low— "werewolf. And that Hogsmeade attack came at a ruddy _awful_ time. I can't really blame you for…"

"Being a moron?" Sirius suggested.

James rolled his eyes. "For needing some time."

"But it's been over two weeks. It's time to suck it up and realize that Remus isn't some sort of monster."

"I never said _he_ was a monster," Peter protested.

Sirius snorted and dropped down onto his bed, where he gave Peter a frosty look. "No, just that he's a dangerous dark creature."

Peter's eye twitched. "What else would you call a werewolf? A playmate?"

"Oh, hush up," James snapped. He could feel a headache building behind his eyes. "You're making a big deal out of nothing, Peter."

"It's not _nothing_! You _both_ thought he might've attacked those people in Hogsmeade! How is that not dangerous?"

Sirius leaped to his feet. "Don't go accusing us of being rotten friends just because _you_ don't know the meaning of the word!"

A few seconds passed, during which James was certain Peter was going to explode. Then, abruptly, his face became an unreadable mask. Without another word, he turned and stormed from the room.

"That's right," Sirius muttered, falling back onto his mattress as the door slammed shut. "Who wants a no-good coward like _him_, anyhow?"

James hesitated. "You don't think we might've gone too far, do you?"

Sirius lifted his head to frown at James. "What?"

"I don't know. We could've been nicer about it."

Snorting, Sirius shook his head. "He's a pillock, James. That's all there is too it. We ought to ditch him and focus on helping Remus."

"I don't think that _is_ all there is to it," James argued. "I think we can still make him see sense."

"Then by all means…" Sirius waved his hand towards the door. "Have at it."

"I will. You watch. I'll have Peter convinced before the next full moon."

"That's, what? A week and a half from now?"

James nodded.

"Good luck."

Grinning, James flicked a gobstone at his friend. "I don't need luck."

"Oh, alright then." Sirius plucked the gobstone from his comforter and squeezed it until some liquid oozed out. "You do know the _Imperius_ is an Unforgiveable, right?"


	24. Into the Night

**Chapter 24: Into the Night**

"Something happened."

James didn't look up from the gobstones he was trying to charm to explode when hit. "I know, Sirius."

It was now three weeks from the attack in Hogsmeade, and although Remus seemed almost to have forgotten the events of that night, his friends had not. Sirius in particular remained determined to figure out the truth, most often by pondering the problem aloud, and James had learned to tune him out once he got into these moods.

"Something big," Sirius said.

"Uh-huh."

Remus and Peter were both gone that afternoon – Peter with Frank Longbottom and Alexander Thorne, as usual, and Remus purportedly to work on homework. Sirius thought (and James agreed with him) that Remus' disappearances were growing far too common to be excused even by Remus' intense study schedule. They had yet to figure out where he was going, however.

"What else could get him that… mental?"

James flicked a gobstone experimentally at the wall, which it struck with a _smack_, but not the explosion James had been hoping for. "You're right, Sirius," he said distractedly, turning his wand on the next gobstone. "You're absolutely right."

"It's got to have something to do with his monthlies."

"Ye— what?" James finally lifted his eyes from the gobstones to frown at Sirius. "Did you just say what I think you just said?"

Sirius tossed his pillow into the air and caught it. "What? It's not as though we can go around the school pointing out that something weird goes on at the full moon."

"So your plan is to call Remus a girl, instead?"

"I'm not calling him a girl! I'm comparing him to one."

James rolled his eyes.

"Come off it, James! It's not like you have a better idea."

"Than 'his monthlies?'" James asked, eyebrows shooting up into his fringe. "I could call it his pet turnip and it would be a better idea."

Laughing, Sirius stretched out on his stomach and rested his chin on his pillow. "That your suggestion, mate? His pet turnip?"

"No!" James shoved his wand behind his ear and stuck his tongue out at Sirius. "I can do better than that!"

"Prove it."

"Fine." James paused for a moment to think. "We could call it his holidays, or his homesickness – y'know, since he's always saying he's gone to see his mum. Or we could pretend he's got a dog back home that's always getting into trouble."

Sirius snorted. "A dog? What would Remus want a dog for? He'd rather have an owl."

"It can't be something he'd bring to school. People would start to wonder why they'd never seen it."

"A rabbit, then."

"A rabbit?" James snickered. "And what trouble could a rabbit possibly get into every month?"

A pause. "Er… it's a man-eating rabbit. Obviously."

Laughing, James lobbed one of his not-yet-exploding gobstones at Sirius. "Who's going to believe that rubbish?"

Sirius grabbed the gobstone and hurled it back at James. "Who's going to believe _anything_ we say? Honestly! We're the school pranksters. We say Remus has a man-eating rabbit, and they'll figure it's some joke and let it alone."

James remained unconvinced. How was he supposed to ask after Remus' pet rabbit whenever he wanted to know how the transformation had gone, or whether Remus was in any pain? "Let's forget the rabbit."

"So he's just got a mysterious man-eating creature at home?" Sirius gave the kind of disapproving scowl James had come to expect from McGonagall. "People are going to think he's hiding a dragon."

"Forget _everything_ about the man-eating rabbit," James said in exasperation. "We need a way to talk about a werewolf without anyone catching on – not a pointless story about a rabbit that eats passing muggles."

"Oi!" Sirius sat up to glare at James. "I never said muggles! Our rabbit is _not_ a blood-purist, James."

James snorted. "It can't eat wizards!"

"Why not?"

"_Because_," said James, "if a rabbit tried to eat a wizard, he'd just blast it to bits!"

"Maybe it's a _giant_ wizard-eating rabbit. With magic-proof fur."

With a deep breath, James ignored Sirius' ramblings and refocused on the issue at hand. "Forget pets. Forget fancy code words. If we want to talk about this without anyone else figuring it out, we'll just call it... I don't know. His little problem. Alright?"

Sirius tapped his chin. "But… that makes it sound like he wets the bed."

James dropped his head into his palm. "_Fine._ His _furry_ little problem, then." He held up a finger before Sirius could protest. "We're done talking about this. If you want something that doesn't sound idiotic, you'll have to ask Remus."

"And we can't ask him until we've told him we know the truth," Sirius said, deflating.

Sighing, James nodded. "And we can't do _that_ until Peter stops being a numpty."

"And he's not going to come to his senses until we beat it into him."

"_Sirius_."

"What?" Sirius crossed his arms. "_Talking_ obviously isn't doing anything."

James rolled his eyes. "So the next step is to hit him?"

"Or hex him!"

"We aren't going to hex Peter."

"Of course not." Sirius snatched up his pillow and began throwing it into the air once again. "You're _still_ hung up on talking to him, are you?"

James considered protesting Sirius' choice of words, or the way he said _talking_ with the same disdain he usually reserved for Snape. But he knew it wouldn't make a difference. With a sigh, he said, "Yes, Sirius."

"Alright." Sirius shrugged. "Let me know when you want my help."

-.-.-

By the end of the week, James was ready to find the nearest wall and start banging his head against it. He'd tried everything he could think of to make Peter see sense – slipping notes into his schoolbooks, cornering him in the toilets, following him in the corridors – but everything James did just made Peter withdraw more and more. He didn't accuse Remus of attacking anyone, or bring up the pictures of victims he'd seen in _Werewolves in the Dark_. In fact, he didn't say anything at all, if he could help it, and if James pressed, Peter would simply mumble that he needed more time.

"He's _had_ a whole bloody month! How much more time does he _need_?"

James was pacing the dormitory several days later, on Thursday evening, shooting resentful glances toward Sirius, who sat on his bed eating a plate of chips the house elves had made for him.

Sirius pointed a chip at James. "I told you talking wouldn't work."

"I know you did."

Grinning, Sirius stuffed the chip into his mouth and asked, "You want my help?"

"I'm going to regret this," James muttered. "But yeah. I'm sick of pretending we don't know what's going on."

"Brilliant." Sirius stood, shoved his plate into James' hands, and strode from the room.

Frowning, James set the plate on Sirius' trunk and dashed after his best friend. They marched down the stairs to the common room, where they found Remus working on homework.

"Hi, Remus!" said Sirius with a wicked grin.

Remus looked up sharply, seemingly startled to find James and Sirius standing over him. "Er… hullo…"

James frowned as Remus eyed his two friends warily. Since recovering from the shock he'd received in April, Remus had begun to catch on to his friends' odd behavior, and Peter's change in company could hardly be called subtle. They _really_ needed to sort things out, James thought – and soon.

But what Sirius was thinking, going to Remus like this, James couldn't guess.

"Have you seen Peter?"

Remus frowned, though not as deeply as James, who was quite sure Sirius had lost his mind.

"Not since History of Magic," said Remus.

"Oh." Sirius shrugged. "I think he was looking for you after dinner. Needed help with Charms for tomorrow or some such."

Remus blinked. "Really?"

Sirius nodded. "I think he went to the library to look for you."

Glancing at his watch, Remus sighed. "Alright. I'll go find him." He sounded incredibly tired and moved stiffly as he gathered his books and trudged out through the portrait hole.

When he had gone, Sirius stretched out on the couch, a smug grin on his face. "They'll thank me later."

"If they don't _kill_ each other," James grumbled. "Why the hell did you do that?"

"What do you mean?"

James glanced around the common room. There weren't many people around, but he didn't feel like taking any chances. "Do you know what tonight is?"

"No." Sirius raised his eyebrow. "What's tonight?"

James only crossed his arms.

Suddenly, Sirius paled. "Wait… No!"

"Yes." James took off his spectacles to rub the bridge of his nose. "If I'd known you were going to send Remus to Peter – the git who _still_ can't look Remus in the eye – I'd've told you to at least wait a couple days!"

With a guilty grin, Sirius stood and nodded toward the door. "So… to the library?"

"Do you have to ask?" James stumped across the room and out into the corridor. "I don't suppose you were bluffing when you said Peter was in the library."

Sirius cringed. "I heard Frank and Alex talking at dinner. It sounded like Peter was going to be there all night. Frank and Alex had already finished."

Resisting the urge to throttle Sirius, James checked his watch. "Half seven. How long do you suppose we have until Remus goes to the Shack?"

"That detention in April was at eight," said Sirius.

"Right. We've just got to hold off disaster for thirty minutes, then." James groaned. "I swear, Sirius. If _this_ is how Remus finds out we know all about his—" He glanced around and dropped his voice— "his _furry little problem_… I'll kill you."

They hurried to the library and began searching for their friends – but Madam Pince caught sight of them and launched into a lecture about proper behavior for a library. For ten agonizing minutes, she reprimanded them for their behavior during their previous visits and demanded that they keep their voices down this time, or she wouldn't hesitate to refer them to their Head of House for a detention.

James smiled politely and assured her that they would be respectful of the other students, doing his best not to let his impatience show. Remus had surely found Peter by now, and there was no telling what was happening.

When at last they were free, James and Sirius turned their attention to the scattered tables, scanning for a familiar face. They soon spotted Peter, who had appeared from between the rows of books and now stalked toward his friends, a sullen glare making them squirm.

"Peter!" Sirius said innocently, avoiding the other boy's gaze. "What's—?"

Peter's scowl deepened, his eyes drifted to where Madam Pince stood, eyeing the three boys with distaste. Rolling his eyes, Peter jerked his head toward the door.

Once they were out in the corridor and ambling away from the library, Peter lobbed another glare their way. "You told Remus to come find me."

"Peter!" Sirius protested. "You wound me! Why would you think—?"

"He did." Pausing, James eyed Peter for any signs of an impending row. "What happened?"

Peter walked a few steps in silence. "We talked."

"And?"

"And what?" Peter asked.

James worried his lip. "How are you? You and Remus, I mean."

With a shrug, Peter dropped his gaze. "I… We're okay, I guess."

"Really?" Sirius asked, eyes lighting up. He grinned smugly at James, who scowled.

Peter, of course, didn't see this exchange. "He's still Remus," he said in a small voice. "I guess I just forgot how much our friendship meant. To both of us."

"That's alright, mate," said James, slinging an arm around Peter's shoulders. "What matters is that you got there in the end."

"I should've done that ages ago." Sirius grimaced. "Was that the first time you talked to Remus since that attack in Hogsmeade?"

Peter's face went red as he nodded. "Sorry for being such a git."

"Don't worry about it," James said, and Sirius nodded.

"Let's just focus on how to tell Remus that we know."

They walked in silence for a time, lost in thought and reluctant to return to Gryffindor Tower just yet. Who knew when Frank and Alexander would turn in – and once they did, James and his friends would have to hush up.

James had been pondering the problem on and off for the past month, ever since he'd accepted the truth of Remus' condition. Despite all his efforts, however, he had yet to devise a workable plan. Did they spring it on Remus when he wasn't expecting it, only to have him run away before they could finish? Did they corner him so he couldn't run away, but terrify him in the process? Or did they try to break it to him gently and then deal with his adamant denial for hours on end?

Only one thing was certain – they would have to wait at least until tomorrow to try anything.

"You probably don't know, Pete," said James softly as they set off down the first floor corridor. There was a passage up ahead that let out near the kitchens, and James was getting peckish. "Tonight's a full moon."

Peter's brow furrowed. "Really? Then that's why Remus was so restless…"

"Restless?" Sirius asked.

"In the library," said Peter. "He was only there for a few minutes, and he kept checking his watch. He left right before I ran into you two."

Sirius sighed. "So he's on his way to the Shrieking Shack right about now."

"Yeah." James paused. "I still can't figure out how he gets in. I mean, he's obviously got to transform there, but—"

James never got the chance to finish, for at that moment, a muffled _whump_ sounded from around the corner, followed by rapid footsteps running the other direction. James' stomach gave a lurch, and he exchanged a fleeting, panicked look with Sirius and Peter. If someone had overheard them… If someone had just found out the truth about Remus' monthly disappearances…

Paling, all three boys sprinted for the corner – but by the time they got there, whoever had heard them was nowhere to be seen. James and Sirius hurried on, searching down side passages for any sign of the stranger, but they saw nothing. Defeated, they returned to where Peter stood, holding a bag full to bursting with school books.

Peter looked up as they approached, his face ashen. "This is Remus' bag," he whispered. "That was _Remus!_"

"_What?_" Sirius' eyes went wide. "But— no! What was he doing here? He was on his way to the Shrieking Shack!"

James could have hexed himself. "Dammit! The Hospital Wing's not far from here. He was probably going to get a pain potion for tonight or something."

"And now he knows _we_ know he's a…" Sirius groaned.

"Should we go after him?" Peter asked, clutching Remus' bag so hard his knuckles had gone white.

James nodded. "We have to let him know we don't hate him." He raised a hand to his hair. "This wasn't how he was supposed to find out!"

"Too late now," Sirius muttered. "We've just to find him and patch things up."

"And fast." James took a deep breath. "We haven't got long before the transformation, so we'll have to split up. If you find him, don't wait for the others, just tell him that we're all okay with it. Otherwise, we'll meet back by the Fat Lady in a half hour. I'll take the kitchens and Hospital Wing."

Not waiting for a response, James sprinted away.

"Don't forget secret passages!" Sirius called after him.

James raised a hand in acknowledgment and ducked into the secret passage around the corner. He checked the rooms he passed but didn't find any sign of his friend. In the kitchens, he saw only the hundreds of house elves, who swarmed James the moment he entered.

"Can wes be helping you, Master James?" asked Trimsy with a bow.

"No," said James shortly, scanning the large, open room. If Remus was there, he should be fairly easy to spot. "I just— wait!" James glanced down at the house elves. "I'm looking for my friend Remus— You know Remus, don't you?"

There was a chorus of _Yes, sir_ and _Of course, sir_ and _We loves Master Remus, sir._

James smiled. "Brill. Alright, anyone who knows what Remus looks like, I need your help. It's really important that I find Remus fast. Could you help me look for him?"

"Absolutely, sir!" said Trimsy excitedly. "Trimsy is honored to help Master James' friends!"

"Thanks, Trimsy, _really_." James turned to leave. "Let me know when you find him."

There was flurry of movement as the house elves bowed, and over half of them disappeared with a symphony of _cracks_. James smiled and hurried out into the corridor, where he spun and raced for the stairs.

He slowed as he approached the Hospital Wing, wondering how to go about asking after Remus. Perhaps Dumbledore knew about Remus' condition, but did Madam Pomfrey? She had to, surely, if she healed him every month, but what if she didn't? Maybe Remus had a special Healer he went to. James didn't want to talk to anyone without Remus' permission. It just wouldn't be right – and if Madam Pomfrey _didn't_ know… James couldn't betray Remus' secret like that.

But how else could he explain his presence in the Hospital Wing?

He was saved having to decide on a course of action when, upon his arrival outside the Hospital Wing, hushed voices from inside caught his attention.

"It's half eight already," said a voice in low, anxious tones. "He's late."

James crept closer to the doors to hear the response.

"And you don't know where he is?" This voice James recognized as belonging to Professor McGoangall.

"I was just about to go looking. He's been late before – when he had trouble getting away from his friends – but never _this_ late. Not without giving me some warning."

McGonagall sighed. "Of course not. Remus is a responsible boy… far more mature than the other boys his age. He understands the importance of coming down on time. If he's not here…" A pause. "I'll check Gryffindor Tower, see if anyone knows where he's got off to. Are we saying it's his mother again?"

"I wasn't planning on it," said the first voice – Madam Pomfrey, James guessed. "Remus seems to think we've overused that one. But if we have to go looking for him…"

"We don't have a choice," said McGonagall. "Go to the staff room. Ask the other professors to look around."

"Right."

James fell back into the shadow of a nearby statue as Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey emerged from the Hospital Wing and hurried past, their faces grim and taut with worry.

So Remus hadn't gone to the Hospital Wing. It sounded as though the whole staff knew of his condition, as well. McGonagall and Pomfrey did, at least, and James was tempted to chase after them to tell them what had happened. But what would be the point? The professors were already searching for Remus. All it would do was waste time.

And anyway, James _had_ to find Remus first. If McGonagall found him, she would take him to the Shrieking Shack for the transformation, and James wouldn't be able to talk to him until the next day, at the earliest. By then, Remus would have convinced himself that his best friends hated him.

James wasted no more time in heading to Gryffindor Tower, taking secret passages to get there quicker. McGonagall seemed not to have arrived yet, but Sirius and Peter had. They looked up anxiously at James' approach, but they could tell at a glance that he hadn't found Remus.

"What now?" Sirius asked.

Rather than answer, James turned to the Fat Lady. "_Festina lente_."

The portrait swung open, and James hurried through. Sirius and Peter followed him across the common room, where Frank and Alexander were playing a game of Exploding Snap, to the dormitory stairs and up to the room. Once inside, James closed the door.

"Trimsy!" he called.

With a _pop_, the house elf appeared at the foot of Peter's bed. "Master James!" he cried, giving a low bow.

"Any news?"

"No sign of Master Remus, sir," said Trimsy. "We is checking everywhere, and we is finding nothing!"

James swore. "You're _sure_ you've checked everywhere?"

"We is waiting for Momo and Tiddly to get back from the rear towers, sir, but we has looked everywhere else."

"Alright," said James. "Well—"

At the sound of footsteps on the stairs, James snapped his mouth shut and pulled Trimsy around the side of the bed. "Go back to the kitchens," he whispered. "I'll call you again in a minute."

Nodding, Trimsy vanished, the _pop_ of his departure lost in a knock on the door.

James gave his friends a warning look, then called out, "Yeah?"

The door opened, and McGonagall strode into the room, frowning. A glance around the Remus-less room made a small furrow appear between her brows. "Have any of you seen Mr. Lupin?"

James tried to feign confusion. "Not since dinner. Why?"

"His mother has been readmitted to St. Mungo's. I'm here to take him to see her."

"But—" Peter began, confused, then yelped as Sirius kicked him.

"Is it bad?" Sirius asked.

McGonagall give them both an odd look but shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't know. You're certain you don't know where he his?"

"Positive," said James, ignoring his friends' perplexed looks. "Should we go and look for him?"

"That won't be necessary." McGonagall turned toward the door. "If he returns here, please send him to my office."

When she had gone, Sirius and Peter turned to James for an explanation.

"It sounds like the professors know the truth, too," said James.

"So why don't we tell them what happened?" asked Peter.

"Because. We need to talk to Remus before he spends the whole night thinking we hate him." James could feel a headache coming on. "Trimsy!"

_Pop!_

"Master James!" Trimsy bowed. "Momo and Tiddly has returned, sir, but they isn't finding any sign of Master Remus."

James groaned. "So he's not in the castle anymore."

Fear flickered in Peter's eyes. "You don't think he went outside?"

"He must've," said Sirius. "He probably went to the Shack."

"Without telling the professors?" James asked.

Sirius shrugged. "After hearing us talking about him, he might've. Anyway, where else would he go?"

"Hagrid's?" James suggested.

Peter glanced out the window. "It's already getting dark. And they never caught whoever it was that attacked Hogsmeade. It's dangerous out there."

"Then we'll just have to go after him." James opened his trunk and fished out his invisibility cloak. "If he's in the Shack, there's not much we can do. We don't even know how to get in. But we might still be able to catch him."

"We have to try," said Sirius.

Smiling nervously, Peter nodded. "Let's just hope we can find him."

After a moment's hesitation, James grabbed the parchment squares Andromeda had given Sirius the previous Christmas and handed one to Sirius, along with a self-inking quill. "Just in case."

* * *

**A/N: In the midst of a conversation he never planned to have, Peter realizes it all comes down to one simple choice. Chapter 7 of _Wormtail's Story_ - "The Second Choice" - is up!**


	25. The Wolf's Tale

**Chapter 25: The Wolf's Tale**

It was a good thing James had grabbed the invisibility cloak; before they even reached the front doors, the trio had spotted Professor McGonagall searching empty classrooms on the fifth floor, Professor Flitwick checking the boys' toilets on the third floor, and Professor Ruche patrolling the corridor behind the Great Hall.

"Shouldn't we tell them Remus isn't in the castle?" Peter asked as the statue of Gregory the Smarmy slid back into place behind them. The passage on the other side was close and musty, and they peeled off the invisibility cloak as they dashed along.

Sirius shook his head. "We haven't got time to explain how we know."

"Besides," said James, "what if the house elves missed someplace, or Remus comes back while we're out looking for him?"

"And some of the professors might be outside anyway."

Peter said nothing.

A few seconds later, they reached the end of the passage and climbed up into the quad. The sky was streaked red with sunset, and a few stars twinkled feebly overhead, but the moon had not yet risen. James paused, glancing around to ensure there were no teachers nearby, and handed Sirius the invisibility cloak.

"I'm going to Hagrid's," James said. "You two take the cloak and look around— and keep your eye on the parchment. I'll let you know if I find Remus."

Sirius nodded, and the boys split up, Sirius and Peter vanishing under the cloak as James tiptoed out of the courtyard. He stuck to the walls of the castle, keeping a wary eye out for both Remus and the professors. Deep blue shadows streaked the rocky slopes, which were utterly still in the warm night. The grounds were dead except for the sway of the Whomping Willow on a distant ridge, silent but for a faint wind whistling through tower windows high overhead.

Eventually, James had to leave the shelter of the castle's shadow and strike out across the grounds, trudging down the hill toward Hagrid's hut, which stood dark and lonely near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. No lights shone in the windows, no smoke came from the chimney; there was no indication that Hagrid was even there… But that didn't mean that _Remus_ wasn't.

But then, who was to say Remus _was_ there? He wasn't in the castle, but the grounds of Hogwarts were vast and sprawling, and with the transformation swiftly approaching, odds were that Remus had already gone to the Shrieking Shack, where he couldn't hurt anyone – and where no one could hurt him.

James felt miserable as he scrambled down a steep, rocky slope and sprinted the remaining distance to Hagrid's hut. How could he have been so stupid? He didn't know what had possessed him to talk about Remus' condition in the middle of the corridor where anyone could hear – but how was he supposed to know someone would be there? He and Sirius knew the castle inside out and backwards, knew which corridors were the most traveled and when most everyone would be in their common rooms. When they wanted to, they could go the whole day without meeting anyone in the corridors.

So James had known, without having to think about it, that at half eight on a weekday night, the first floor back corridor would be deserted. He hadn't worried about being overheard because no one should have been there.

Remus probably knew the same thing from two years' experience, probably used that corridor every month to get to the Hospital Wing without being seen.

How could James know so little about his best friend?

When James reached Hagrid's hut, he raised his hand and pounded on the door. "Hagrid!" he called. Hardly waiting for a response, he threw the door open and walked in. "_Lumos._ Hagrid?"

But the hut was deserted. A half-empty tankard sat on the table, and the chair lay upended nearby. Hagrid must have left in a hurry – to search for Remus? James didn't have time to worry about that. He searched the small house hastily, on the off-chance that Remus had hidden himself under the bed or in the cupboards, but with no luck.

James pulled out his parchment square and smoothed it on the counter. Fishing his quill out of his pocket, he scribbled, _He's not at Hagrid's._

He paused to let the ink seep into the paper and tapped his quill against the countertop. His gaze drifted up to the window set over the sink, through which he could see Hagrid's pumpkin patch with its tiny sprouts, colorless in the deepening twilight, and a broad dark swath of the Forbidden Forest. While his mind mulled over the question of where Remus might have gone – the Black Lake? the Quidditch pitch? – his eyes peered unseeing into the darkness.

A moment later, he glanced down at the parchment and saw that Sirius had responded.

_Down by the lake. No luck yet._

With a sigh, James set his quill to the parchment to let Sirius and Peter know he was going to the Quidditch pitch – but movement beyond the window caught his eyes. His head jerked up, heart pounding at the thought that Hagrid or a professor had seen the light of James' wand and come to investigate.

"_Nox_," he muttered, and the hut plunged into darkness.

For long moments, James dared not move – not even to find a hiding place in the small and cluttered space – for fear of being noticed. But no one moved in the darkness outside, nor threw open the door with a cry of accusation, and James began to wonder if he'd imagined the movement.

Still he remained unmoving, unable to shake the feeling of being scrutinized by _someone_. Not Hagrid; he knew that now. But then who? Remus? If it was Remus, then why did James feel icy fingers of fear creeping down his throat? Why did he feel suddenly like a hare frozen to escape a predator's notice? James eyes darted to the left edge of the window, searching for the frosty gray glow of moonlight.

The moon was still out of sight – for now.

Then, as James was beginning to curse the shadows for confusing him, he saw it: movement. This time, there was no mistaking it. A shadow, scarcely darker than the trees around it, darted past in the eaves of the forest. It was, as far as James could tell, human-sized, but too dark and too distant for him to see more.

The hairs on his arms stood on end, and James watched in queasy disbelief as the figure passed out of his line of sight. _Who was that?_ His mind told him that it could be Remus, but his gut dredged up memories of another shadow in the forest, with a laugh that made his blood run cold.

Slowly, James came out of his trance and caught sight of Sirius' large, hastily-scrawled words on the parchment: _What's going on?!_

He had forgotten the message he'd started to write, and now through the gloom, he could make out a long, dark line on the counter where his quill had dragged off the side of the parchment. With a swift glance out the window, James scribbled out a reply. _Someone in forest headed for gates. Going after him._

He hesitated only briefly as his words faded, then stuffed the parchment into the pocket of his robe, tightened his grip on his wand, and eased open the back door. With only the glimmering stars and a violet smudge away to the west to break the black night, James itched to light his wand, but he dared not betray his position – to Remus, to the professors, or to the stranger in the forest.

Instead, he scrambled down the hill on which Hagrid's hut stood, nearly losing his footing more than once on the uneven ground, and ran after the shadow. He didn't enter the forest, where leaf litter and dead branches would amplify his footsteps tenfold, but ran parallel to the tree line, heart pounding as much from nerves as from exertion. Alone in the darkness, following an ominous figure without even his friends to back him up, James suddenly found it infinitely harder to shrug off the rumors that had flooded the school since Christmas.

Was there really a murderer stalking Hogwarts? Was James really _following_ the man who had attacked Creetown and Hogsmeade? It was absurd, surely.

But James wasn't laughing.

As Hogwarts' gates came into view, James slowed, scanning the forest and the grounds for movement. But it seemed he'd lost his quarry, and his chase had led him away from the Quidditch pitch – one of few places he might have actually found Remus. James didn't know how long he had been out here, searching, but he knew moonrise couldn't be far off. His chances of finding Remus now (and still having time to explain what Remus had overheard in the corridor) were almost nonexistent.

A branch snapped.

James spun toward the sound, but he didn't have time to react to the large, dark blur that suddenly burst from the trees, seized James in a crushing hold, and dragged him back into the forest.

For a moment, James was too stunned to do anything but stumble along, fighting in vain to keep his feet under him as the stranger hauled him away from the castle and away from help. Then, with a jolt of panic, he began to fight. One impossibly strong arm encircled his chest and arms, so tight James was sure his ribs could crack at any moment; the other was clamped firmly over his mouth to stifle any shouts that might attract attention. After a moment of squirming, it became apparent that James was not going to free his arms or make use of his wand.

Scowling, James took the fight to his legs, dragging his heels into the ground and kicking blindly backwards. But the stranger wasn't slowed by James' resistance, and the few kicks that landed elicited not so much as a pained grunt.

In one last desperate attempt to escape, James opened his mouth and bit down as hard as he could on the calloused, hairy hand covering it. He tasted sweat and dirt and the sharp, bitter taste of blood, and then the hand jerked away with a muffled stream of oaths.

"Let go!" James roared, thrashing against the arm still holding him, throwing his whole weight forward, hoping against hope that the sudden move would catch the stranger by surprise.

His only reward for his troubles was the butt of a wand digging suddenly and painfully into his cheek.

"Quiet, or I'll blast your head off."

The voice was low and rasping, as though the man was not used to speaking aloud, but it rumbled with such a predatory threat that for an instant, James stood still and silent, half-certain that if he moved, he would die.

"Y-you wouldn't."

At the new voice, James' heart leapt and, forgetting for a second the wand in his face and the warning in the stranger's voice, James twisted, peering into the darkness. "Remus!"

Long, sharp nails dug into James' skin as the stranger tightened his grip. "Quiet!"

"You _promised!_" Remus cried, and James heard a crackle of dried leaves as Remus shifted. When he spoke again, he sounded nearer, as though he stood just behind James and his captor. "_You_ _swore you wouldn't hurt them!_"

A horrible, mocking laugh, as humorless as Lynx's, stirred the hair above James' ear. "What I _swore_," said the stranger, almost gleefully, "was not to go after your—" He paused, and James could hear the sneer in the voice— "_friends_."

"But—"

"He came to me." The stranger's shoulders lifted in a shrug, and a chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. "What do you want me to do, walk him back to the castle? Too late now. The moon will take us soon."

The forest was silent for the length of several frantic heartbeats that the stranger must have felt pounding against James' ribcage. Then James found his voice. "Y-you're a werewolf, too?"

A pained moan that could only have come from Remus followed this panicked declaration, and James cringed. He opened his mouth to tell Remus that he didn't care, but the stranger's laugh cut him off.

"Pretty sharp, for a Gryffindor." The man brought his mouth down to the level of James' ear and hissed, "Fenrir Greyback." James said nothing, but twisted to glare at Greyback, whose lips parted to reveal sharp, yellowed teeth. The werewolf's eyes glinted in the darkness. "No need to introduce yourself, James Potter. Remus has told me all I need to know about you."

"He's lying!" Remus cried. "I didn't tell him anything, I swear!" His voice was raw and pleading, desperate – but hopeless, as though he didn't expect James to believe him.

Greyback's feral grin widened. "He's right. He didn't say a word; didn't have to. His actions said it all. You see, _Potter_—" He spat the name like a curse— "our Remus doesn't much like me." The voice turned petulant, and James bristled at the way he said _our Remus,_ a saccharine affection lacing the words.

Somewhere out of sight, Remus shifted. A twig snapped far-off.

"But he likes you," Greyback went on after a pause. "You and the other boys who pretended to be his friends."

James jerked away from Greyback, though of course he hardly moved an inch before the iron hold pulled him back against the werewolf's chest. "We didn't—"

Greyback ignored him. "But now you know the truth, so there's nothing left for him here. _Hogwarts_," he spat. "Our kind doesn't belong here. I've been telling him so all year."

"A-all _year_?" It came out as a croak, and James felt the guilt he'd almost forgotten in the excitement return full-force.

"All year," said Greyback. "Didn't you notice the letters? Didn't he tell you I'd been to see him?" He laughed, so softly it might have been a sigh. "As if a _human_ could ever understand."

Though he opened his mouth to retort, James found he had no words. How _could_ he understand? He wasn't a werewolf like Remus was; he hadn't felt the pain of the transformation or the fear of someone discovering the truth.

"That's why," said Greyback in that predatory growl that made James shudder, "he's coming with me."

Perhaps Greyback's merciless hold had finally crushed James' chest, for he couldn't seem to draw in enough air. "W-what?"

"He was going to bite you!" Remus said, and he was nearly as breathless as James. "He said he would bite you if I didn't come with him! You and Sirius and Peter. He was going to turn you— to make you like me!"

James couldn't believe what he was hearing. "So you decided to run off with him?" The words sounded numb, and James' head spun. Remus hadn't shown any sign of running off with Greyback until tonight – until he overheard James and his friends talking and realized that they _knew_. "Remus," said James, twisting again in Greyback's grasp, ignoring the pain as white sparks shot out of the end of the wand still shoved against his cheek. He needed to see Remus, to look him in the eyes and tell him that it was okay, that they didn't hate him, that _he didn't have to leave with Greyback_. "You can't!"

Greyback snorted. "Don't worry, boy. You'll—"

"_Relashio!_"

A flash of violet light, blinding in the darkness, illuminated the forest around them for a split second, and James was stumbling forward, the pressure gone from his chest. The werewolf's grasping fingers caught once at James' robes, which gave way with a loud _rip_, and then he was free_. _James landed on his knees, scrambled to his feet, saw Sirius standing, wand raised, where there had been empty air a moment before. As he watched, Peter appeared, stuffing the invisibility cloak into his pocket, and muttered, "_Lumos_."

The wandlight stung James' eyes, but he ignored it as he fell in beside his friends and turned to look for Remus… who remained behind Greyback, eyes wide and face ashen.

"Remus!" Peter cried, eyes darting nervously to Greyback.

"What are you doing?" Sirius asked, frowning. "Come on!"

Remus' gaze slid sideways to the dark forest, but he remained otherwise unmoving.

"You don't think we're actually going to let you _leave_ with this bloke, do you?" Sirius was so busy eyeing Greyback with distaste that he probably didn't see the flicker of fear in Remus' eyes – but James did.

"Remus…"

The boy's eyes darted to James for one second, glistening strangely in the light of Peter's wand. Then Remus fixed his gaze downward.

Greyback shifted nearby, and James watched him warily. The werewolf was dirty and haggard, his dark, stringy hair sweeping the filthy collar of his robes. A scraggly beard darkened his jaw, and scars older and thicker than Remus' criss-crossed his face. His eyes were a pale and startling blue, eerily bright even in the limited light. Hairy hands ended in claw-like fingers, and James noticed with a jolt that the wand he clenched in his hand belonged to Remus.

"Three more for the pack tonight," said Greyback, eyes roving over the newcomers. "If any of them manage to survive. I wouldn't worry, though, Remus, I'm sure you'll still have at least one playmate when this is over."

"No!" Remus cried, fear choking his voice as he turned wide eyes on Greyback. "You _can't_!"

"You can't blame _me_ for leading them out here, Remus."

Remus blanched, guilt and horror washing across his face, and he seemed to shrink, hunching his shoulders as he dropped his gaze. "I… I didn't…"

With a thin, leering smile, Greyback put an arm around Remus in a gesture that wasn't warm and comforting, but instead seemed somehow possessive and elicited a shudder from the boy. Nevertheless, Remus accepted the touch wordlessly.

Sirius' wand hand twitched. "Get away from him!"

Once more, swiftly, Remus' eyes darted up to his friends; once more, they refocused on the forest floor. Greyback went on leering.

"What do you want with him?" James demanded.

There was something mocking in the way Greyback schooled his expression. "Such ignorant fools. What do they even teach you up there at that school of yours?" James and Sirius scowled, but Greyback waved his hand as though to dismiss his comment. "Let me tell you a story."

"Not interested," Sirius snapped.

Greyback laughed. "I'm sure you aren't. But if you listen, you may just learn something most idiot wizards will never know."

James shook his head. "Just tell us why you're so interested in Remus."

"Once upon a time," began Greyback, malicious amusement dancing in his feverish eyes, "there was a boy."

"We aren't here to listen to your ruddy story," said Sirius, but Greyback kept talking.

"He wasn't so different from the other boys his age," he said. "Not at first. His mother was a witch, his father a wizard, and they taught him magic from the time he was a young child. He had friends, and he had family, and he had magic. He was _happy_."

A growl escaped Sirius, who looked ready to hex Greyback and be done with it. "Would you shut up, already? We don't care—"

"Then," Greyback went on, raising his voice to drown out Sirius, "one day, he wandered off to the forest, though he knew he wasn't allowed." The man leaned forward, as though sharing a well-kept secret. Silence reigned for a moment; even Sirius seemed unable to find his voice. "He was a naughty boy, you see; always liked to decide things for himself. Didn't like to be told what to do. So he went to the forest, even though the forest wasn't safe, and in the forest…" Greyback bared his yellow teeth. "He met a beast. He _became_ a beast."

"_What?_" James snarled.

Sirius' wand spat red sparks that glowed briefly on the leaf litter underfoot before dying out. "Shut up!"

Peter just stared at the werewolf, appalled.

Greyback looked unperturbed by this reaction. "That's what everyone said. How can the whole world be wrong?"

"Not _everyone_ says that," James hissed.

Remus looked up with a sharp intake of breath, and James held his uncertain gaze, urging him to understand that _they didn't care_.

If Greyback saw this exchange, he didn't find it worth commenting on. "He didn't think he'd changed so much, not at first. He didn't see why he couldn't go to Hogwarts like any other boy, couldn't have friends like any other boy, couldn't lie about his condition and pretend to be human."

"Why couldn't he?" Sirius demanded, still fuming, wand still darting angrily toward Greyback every time the werewolf opened his mouth.

"Because," said Greyback. "He couldn't lie— not about his own nature, not when the scars and the moon gave him away. First it was the professors, and then his friends… Soon the whole school knew what he was, this little boy who used to be just like them." The pale blue eyes darkened suddenly, and Greyback's voice dropped to a harsh growl. "And they _hated_ him."

"That's not true…" Peter muttered, guilt flashing across his face.

Remus squeezed his eyes shut and swayed on the spot. He looked pale, paler than James had ever seen him, but splotches of feverish red stood out on his cheeks.

"He was only thirteen," Greyback went on, voice rising in pitch and intensity. "How could he be a monster?"

"He's not!" James cried.

"But they said he was," Greyback said. He paused, lips twitching into a smile. "So that's exactly what he became."

"SHUT UP!" Sirius' face had grown steadily redder as Greyback's story went on, and now burned an ugly purplish color. He took a step forward – only one, for James grabbed his arm before he could leap on Greyback. "Shut _up_! You don't know a _thing_ about Remus, so don't talk like you do! The only monster I see here is _you_!"

For a moment, Greyback stared at Sirius in bewilderment. Then, slowly, he began to laugh. "There you have it," he said to Remus. "We're so alike your so-called friends can't even tell us apart."

"That's not true!" Sirius roared. "Weren't you—?"

"_That boy was _me_!_"

The statement, and the venom in Greyback's glare, was so heated that Sirius fell silent. James, too, looked on, dumbstruck, as the werewolf launched back into his tale. But now he wasn't as callous and detached as he had been before. Every word dripped with fury and resentment, and though his voice dropped low, it was no less jarring than a shout.

"I had just started my third year when I was turned," said Greyback. "I had my whole life ahead of me. But then I was bit, and everything went to hell. My _friends_ abandoned me when they heard. My parents looked at me with shame and fear. I was expelled, my wand snapped in half, and I was cast out into a world that _hated_ me, left to fend for myself! Everywhere I turned, I was called a monster, a beast.

"It didn't take me long to realize they were right."

He paused here, and his grip on Remus' shoulder tightened convulsively. Remus flinched, but otherwise gave no indication he was aware of the scene playing out around him. He looked ill and shaky and wrapped his arms around himself as though chilled, though the night was still warm.

"By the time I was of age," said Greyback, rage under control once more, "I'd stopped trying to be human. I was something more, something better. And I thought, why should I be the only one to enjoy lycanthropy?"

James tore his eyes away from Remus to glare at Greyback. How many people had this man bitten, he wondered? And the way he spoke, it was as though he'd done them a favor! "_Enjoy_?" he demanded, and this time it was he who needed to be held back – by Sirius and Peter both, though Sirius' hold was weak, no doubt because he wanted to join James in giving Greyback a sound thrashing. "You think your victims _like_ what you did to them?"

"How many of them died?" Peter asked. His voice trembled fearfully, but the anger bubbling under the surface lent it a hard edge. James flashed Peter a grim, encouraging smile.

"Only the weak die," said Greyback. "The strong become stronger." His lip drew upward in a sneer, and he spat on the ground at his feet. "But the Ministry can't tolerate anything stronger than a wizard. They saw me, they saw the pack I had begun to assemble, and they feared us. They made laws to limit our freedom, portrayed us as dumb brutes to the public, did everything in their power to beat us into the dust. But I would not bow so easily to weak men and their bigotry."

The anti-werewolf laws swam through James' head, mocking him. Greyback was right – it wasn't fair; werewolves _did_ suffer at the hands of the Ministry. But that didn't make what Greyback did any less horrifying, and James refused to give him any sympathy.

It seemed Greyback wasn't looking for vindication, either, for he pressed on: "I knew if I attacked the Ministry fools who tried to oppress us, I would only make them stronger. They would be labeled martyrs, others would flock to their standard, and life would only get harder for werewolves like me. I needed them to abandon the fight before it began."

Greyback glanced down at Remus, and, seeming to sense the attention, Remus hesitantly looked up at the older werewolf. With a grin that made Remus flinch away – and even sent shivers down James' spine – Greyback pulled the boy close against his side.

"That was how I met Remus," said Greyback. "His father was a weak, cowardly fool who hated werewolves. You would think he would do anything to prevent his only son becoming the very thing he sought to destroy." The grin turned colder, crueler. "Obviously, he cared more for his career than for his son."

Remus' gasp was audible, the shocked pain in his eyes unmistakable even in the wavering wandlight, and James hated Greyback more than he thought it was possible to hate anyone. He hated him for everything. For trying to take Remus away from his friends, for the letters that had so disturbed Remus throughout the year, for biting Remus in the first place— for James knew that was what Greyback was implying.

Most of all, James hated Greyback for making these comments about Remus' father, who Greyback surely knew was a sore subject. James recalled with painful clarity the day Remus told them his father had left. The pain was still raw, and Greyback _knew_ that. The way he smiled – the horrible, twisted grin – left no doubt in James mind. Greyback wanted to make Remus hurt. He relished Remus' pain, and no amount of posturing about taking Remus away to "where he belonged" would change that fact.

"But it wasn't a total waste," said Greyback, before James could work up enough rage to skip the rest of the conversation and begin hexing him. Slowly, almost fondly, Greyback slid a finger under Remus' chin and tilted his head up until they were looking each other in the eye. "He was the youngest I ever turned— one of the strongest. I knew he would make a worthy heir, in time, if I could raise him as my son, could teach him to think and act like me."

Shuddering, Remus jerked away from Greyback's touch.

"I didn't count on his fool of a mother holding on," said Greyback, scowling. "She took her son and left, and I couldn't find them, no matter how hard I searched. I'd almost given up on him.

"So imagine my surprise when I heard he'd come to Hogwarts. You raised quite a stir last year, four first years who routed a grown wizard on their own – and one of them John Lupin's boy. I knew he'd been turned. His father kept it quiet, as my parents did, but I knew the truth, and I assumed the professors would as well and would turn him away as they did me." Greyback's expression soured, and he stared at Remus in open disgust for the first time. "I don't know how you managed to deceive them, but it doesn't matter, now you've finally seen sense."

Just like that, the façade was back in place. Greyback regarded Remus with something like paternal pride and raised the hand that still held Remus' wand to smooth back the hair that had fallen into the boy's eyes.

"We can leave now," said Greyback. "I'll take you away, as I should have taken you eight years ago." He leaned down to whisper in Remus' ear, and James barely caught his words— "_You're mine now._"

Remus gave a small, frightened whimper and screwed his eyes shut.

James' blood sang in his ears. He refused to let Greyback do this, take away his friend, who was so obviously revolted by the feral werewolf. Not when James knew the only reason Remus was going was because Greyback had threatened to hurt James, Sirius, and Peter – and because Remus still thought they hated him for being a werewolf.

"No."

James' voice was clear and hard, carrying easily in the silent forest.

Greyback tensed, dropped the hand that had been stroking Remus' hair, and fixed his unsettling gaze on James.

"_What?_"

"No," said James again, raising his wand. "I'm not letting you take him."

Sneering, Greyback sized up the three boys. "And how are you going to stop me?"

James grinned. "Easy— _Stupefy!_"

Greyback reacted instantaneously, shoving Remus away from him with such force that the boy skidded on his hands and knees through the leaf litter. At the same time, Greyback sprang in the opposite direction, easily evading the Stunner and landing in a battle-ready crouch. A dangerous, almost hungry, grin twisted his face.

"You _really _shouldn't have done that."

* * *

**A/N: A letter, a hidden truth, and an attack. Moony's Story, chapter 9 - "Winter 1972: Long Lost Truth" - is up!  
**


	26. Beings and Beasts

**Chapter 26: Beings and Beasts**

A brilliant flash of purple light shot across the forest towards James before he was ready for it, before he had even realized that his Stunner had missed. He would have been struck, had Sirius not reached out at the last instant to haul him aside. Heart pounding, James shook his head to clear it and directed his wand toward Greyback. _Focus_, he commanded himself._ You can't afford to lose._

Some small part of himself remembered that he didn't have any experience dueling, not really, not against adults, except for one disastrous fight a year previously, which James had only won by blind luck and pure, Gryffindor stubbornness. And in any case, he suspected Greyback would be a more dangerous opponent than del Bene. Especially with the full moon about to rise.

But he _had_ to win, and not just so that he didn't die. If James and Sirius and Peter lost, then who would save Remus?

The thought of Remus joining some wild pack of werewolves, becoming anything like Greyback, made James' stomach turn. Gritting his teeth, he brandished his wand. "_Stupefy!_"

With a careless gesture, Greyback sent the Stunner sailing harmlessly into the trees.

"_Impedimenta!_" Sirius tried.

Greyback grinned and raised a shield. "Pathetic."

James bristled. "You think so? _Incarcerous!_"

"Truly pathetic." Batting the writhing ropes aside, Greyback advanced toward James and Sirius, who wavered and fell back a step before regaining their nerve. "It almost isn't worth killing you."

"_Conjuncto!_" Sirius cried.

Again, Greyback blocked the spell. "If I wanted to, I could simply take Remus and leave."

"_Like hell you could!_" Sirius roared.

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" James said.

Greyback sidestepped, grinned, and pointed his wand at Peter, who stood behind and to the right of his friends, trembling, his wand lighting up the forest. A flash of red light lashed out at Peter, who dove aside.

The forest plunged into darkness.

James and Sirius shot spells blindly into the darkness, where they could hear a scuffle and soft cries of fear.

"Remus!" James hollered. He turned toward the empty forest to his left. "_Incendio_." The leaf litter caught fire at once, red flames blazing to life and casting flickering light on the tree trunks. He heard a sizzle and a cry of "_Protego!_" and whirled as a translucent shield, glimmering orange in the firelight, sprang up around him. Yellow sparks rained down where a spell had hit.

James shot Sirius a shaky grin. "Thanks, mate."

"Any time."

Greyback paced before them, eyes glowing with a strange hunger as he watched the boys. Remus, robes rumpled and torn from his scuffle with Greyback, had put some distance between himself and Greyback and now stood clutching a tree trunk with white fingers.

Peter edged toward Remus.

"_Incendio_," Greyback said, eyes never leaving James and Sirius. A ring of flames sprang up around Remus, trapping him against the tree and cutting him off from his friends.

Peter stumbled back even as James and Sirius whirled with twin cries of, "_Aguamenti!_" and began to douse the flames.

But Greyback paid them no mind. Snarling, he sprang toward Peter. Already off-balance after his hasty retreat from the flames and panicking at the sight of the large, wild man barreling toward him, Peter scrambled back farther yet, only to trip and land on his rump in the leaves.

"PETER!" Remus cried, lurching away from the tree to which he'd been clinging. But the fire still raged around him, holding him in place. Sirius redoubled his efforts to douse it, while James turned to help Peter.

But with Greyback nearly on top of Peter, James realized that any spell he used was as likely to hit Peter as Greyback, so he stood there helplessly, watching as the distance between Greyback and Peter shrank to nothing. At the last second, Peter remembered his wand.

"_Tarantallegra!_"

This time, Greyback had no chance to block or dodge the spell, which exploded in his face like a firework. His legs jerked underneath him as he ran, sending him tumbling ungracefully into Peter. They crashed to the ground, Greyback atop Peter, and for one terrifying moment, James thought Greyback would tear Peter apart with his bare hands. But the werewolf was too busy undoing the jinx to pay the boy any mind, and in an instant, Peter had wriggled free and leaped to his feet.

"Alright, Pete?" James asked, rushing to his side as Greyback regained his footing.

Peter nodded, shakily pointing his wand at Greyback, who drew back several paces to watch. Frightening, unreadable expressions flitted across his face every so often, and his eyes burned all the while, oddly bright in the dying firelight. James could hear sizzling and the patter of water on leaves as Sirius continued to combat Greyback's flames.

"You should go," Remus muttered when it became apparent that Greyback wasn't going to attack immediately.

"Not without you," Sirius said.

There was a pause before Remus responded. "I don't—"

"We can argue later, Remus," said James, glaring at Greyback. "We aren't letting him take you."

Greyback bared his teeth. "Touching," he said, returning James' glare, though his eyes darted once, briefly, to where Remus stood. "And yet so cruel. Just like the rest of your kind."

"My _kind?_" James asked.

"Wizards," said Greyback. "Humans."

Sirius snorted. "And what are you, a kneazle?"

"I'm a werewolf, _boy_, or did you not hear that?"

"No, I know. Only I missed the part where you have to stop being human when you become a werewolf."

"Look at Remus," James added. "You can't tell me _he's_ some sort of monster."

"James…" Remus' voice was small and guarded, and James risked a glance over his shoulder. Sirius had by this time smothered most of the fire, and only a few stubborn flames remained. But Remus still stood within the charred circle, stiff as a wand, his face impassive. Only his eyes showed his uncertainty – or perhaps that was a trick of the light.

James smiled. "I mean it, Remus. We don't—"

"_Liar._"

All four boys turned to Greyback, whose face was twisted with rage. He had dropped into a crouch, toying with Remus' wand as though itching to fire off some nasty curse to finish them all off. As his lips curled back in a snarl, Greyback's crooked, yellow teeth were exposed. Now more than ever, James could see a resemblance to the wolf inside him.

"Who are you calling a liar?" Sirius demanded. "_You're_ the one telling Remus we hate him!"

Growling, Greyback whipped his wand horizontally. An invisible force lifted James off his feet and flung him, tumbling, backwards, until he hit a tree hard enough to cloud his vision. When it cleared, he was twenty feet from where he'd stood a moment before. He spotted Peter to his right and heard Sirius some way behind them. Remus alone had not been thrown by Greyback's spell. He stood rooted in place, staring at his friends in horror.

"No!"

Remus took a step towards his friends, but Greyback seized him by the arm and spun him around.

"Forget them!" Greyback snapped.

"But—"

"You think they care about you? You think they _like_ you?"

"Of course we do!" Sirius grunted, staggering to his feet.

Remus stared at Sirius, eyes wide, undisguised longing in his face.

Greyback shook Remus roughly. "Don't let them fool you. Humans are all the same – you _know_ that, even if you're too naïve to accept it. They say they care, but it's all a ruse."

"No it's not!" James shouted.

"They don't want you to come with because they don't want you to be free. They don't want _beasts_ like us running wild."

Sirius staggered forward. "Shut up!"

"They're all _liars!_"

"We _aren't!_" Peter whispered.

Greyback's face contorted with rage, and his grip on Remus' wand tightened. "You see him differently now, don't you?" he snarled, dragging Remus forward. "He's not the boy you met last year, is he? Now you know he's a wolf, how can you look at him and not think of the full moon?"

"Of course we see him differently!" cried James, temper flaring. "Just like I saw Sirius differently when I saw how his family treated him! Just like I saw Peter differently when we found the Slytherins picking on him! It doesn't change who he is!"

"It does!" Greyback was shouting now, waves of magic flowing off him like an icy wind. "Stop denying what you know to be true!"

"Just because you had lousy friends_—_"

The magic in the clearing thickened, squeezing the breath from James' lungs. Hairs on his arms standing on end, he staggered under the invisible onslaught; Sirius raised his wand bravely, if aimlessly. Greyback's icy eyes gleamed with loathing.

"I've waited long enough," the werewolf growled. "I won't let you maggots steal him back from me. Leave now and maybe I won't burn you all to ashes. I'll give you till ten. One..."

James stared at Greyback defiantly, but Remus' eyes had gone wide.

"Run," he hissed, straining against Greyback's hold. "_Please_, you've got to go!"

"Two," said Greyback, grinning.

James ignored the werewolf and stared at Remus. "What about you?"

"There's no _time_, James! He won't kill me, but you'll…"

Sirius snorted. "He can _try_."

"He'll do more than try!" The look on Remus' face – terror only partially masked by grim resolve – gave James pause more than Remus' words. Remus knew his friends still cared; he might not fully believe it yet, but the guarded look he'd worn long minutes ago had faded, and he met James' eyes steadily.

"We'll… we'll transform soon," Remus whispered. "You _can't_ be here when that happens. _Please_."

Greyback watched the exchanged with savage amusement as he went on counting. "_Five._"

There was a shuffling of leaves behind James. He turned to see Peter backing away, looking torn. The boy sent a fleeting, frightened look at Greyback, whose wand had begun to hum with the building magic as he reached _six_, then another, longer look at Remus. Peter opened his mouth, hesitated, then turned and ran.

Remus breathed a sigh, eyes fluttering closed for the briefest moment, but he still had a pinched look about his face. "Now you, too, James, Sirius. I… I'll be alright._"_

"No you bloody well won't," said Sirius.

Remus flinched.

It was all the proof James needed. He got why Remus wanted them to leave; honestly he did. And he knew it was beyond dangerous to stay. But he knew – as did Remus, though he would never say so aloud – that if Remus was left alone with Greyback, he would be far from _alright_. Even if they found him in the morning, or brought him back from Greyback's pack in the days to come… Well, James didn't know what a werewolf went through during the full moon, not really, but adding Greyback to the mix would surely make it a thousand times worse.

"Eight." Greyback looked positively gleeful at the scene playing out before him. He had leaned casually against the tree behind him and twirled his wand casually, carelessly, in one hand, the other still closed around Remus' arm. "Better hurry, boys. _Nine..."_ He wasn't taking it seriously, James realized. He was toying with them.

His guard was down.

_Bugger this, _James thought. "_Expelliarmus!_"

Taken by surprise, the werewolf had no time to cast a defensive spell, or to move out of the way. James' charm hit him dead on, and Greyback let out a snarl as Remus' wand spun away into the darkness.

"Nice one, James!" Sirius cheered.

But Greyback didn't seem more than mildly irritated at the loss of his wand, much to James' dismay. Greyback bared his teeth, shoved Remus out of the way, and leaped at James and Sirius.

"NO!" Remus shouted.

James flung himself aside with a cry of, "_Impedimenta!_"

Greyback dodged the spell only narrowly, and the moment of distraction gave James a second to regain his balance and duck behind a tree. He could hear footsteps crunching on the leaf litter; Sirius fired off the Trip Jinx, and Greyback snarled as the footsteps faltered momentarily.

"That's right, humans. Run. Hide. The moon will soon be fully risen, and then the hunt can begin."

He appeared suddenly between the trees, just a few feet away, and leered at James, who sucked in a breath and hastened to raise his wand.

"_Diffindo!_"

Greyback flinched, clutching at his arm, where a long, shallow cut appeared. His face twisted into a look of feral rage. "Insolent _runt_," he growled, and leaped forward.

"_S-stupefy!_" James stammered, thrown off by the speed behind Greyback's sudden charge.

Greyback ducked, but continued running.

James stumbled back. "_Stupefy!_" he cried again. "_Stupefy!_" Both spells scorched marks into tree trunks as Greyback twisted out of their path.

"James!" Sirius hollered from somewhere nearby, crashing through fallen leaves and dead branches. "_Impedimenta!_" A pale white jet sailed over Greyback's head. James' back found a tree.

"GLISSEO!" Remus bellowed.

The ground beneath Greyback became as smooth as glass; with his next step, his foot slid out from under him, and he went down hard.

James stared at Greyback for an instant before he turned to Remus, who stood gasping, his hair mussed and spotted with leaves and pine needles. His recovered wand trembled in his white-knuckled grip.

James grinned. "Guess Lynx was right after all. That spell _is_ useful outside of pranking!"

"_James!_" Remus said, an edge of hysteria to his tone. "Is this _really _the time?"

"Right, sorry." He turned back to Greyback. "_Stupefy!_"

Faster than James would have thought possible, Greyback was on his feet, the Stunner fizzling out on the glassy dirt where he'd been crouched a moment before. He sneered at James and Remus, malice sparkling in his eyes. Remus shuddered.

Sirius appeared suddenly from the darkness with a cry of, "_Reducto!_"

Once more, Greyback sprang away— but this time, he wasn't quite fast enough. Sirius' curse detonated against a tree near Greyback, throwing the werewolf to the ground.

James was quick to take advantage of Greyback's apparent disorientation. "_Incarcerous!_" Thick ropes appeared to bind Greyback to the smouldering tree. Greyback grunted in pain, and James felt a thrill of morbid satisfaction. If anyone deserved to hurt, it was Greyback.

Still clutching his wand in a tremulous grip, Remus stepped up between James and Sirius and stared blankly down at Greyback.

Greyback's eyes widened. After a moment, his lips curled back – in disgust or in an attempt to mask the pain, James couldn't tell. "You're siding with them, are you?"

Remus hesitated, but James and Sirius reached out simultaneously to clasp his shoulder. James felt Remus shift, straightening up.

"I know where I belong."

He spoke softly, but firmly. James had never been quite so keenly aware of the quiet strength Remus possessed. He was shy, scrawny, and scared of losing his friends; he wasn't as brash or as adventurous as James and Sirius; but there could be no doubt that Remus Lupin belonged in Gryffindor.

"_Traitor,_" Greyback snarled.

Sirius snorted. "Now you just sound like my mother." James laughed, and even Remus managed a grin. "Let's Stun him already and get out of here."

"Yeah," said James, raising his wand. He hesitated, however, and glanced at Remus. Everything Remus had suffered in his life, ultimately, came back to Greyback. The bite that had turned him into a werewolf and cost him his father; the laws that made it all but impossible for Remus to lead a normal life; the fear of being rejected if anyone discovered his secret - all Greyback's fault. It was only right that Remus get to end this. "You want to do the honours?"

Remus seemed startled for a moment, but he nodded and turned a cold stare on Greyback. The two werewolves stared at each other, and James was struck by how different they were – Greyback snarling with scarcely-contained rage; Remus all somber determination.

"_Stupefy_," said Remus calmly, and Greyback slumped against his bonds.

For a moment, Remus stood there, shuddering, and James thought it was just nerves from the battle with Greyback catching up to him. But when he gave Remus' shoulder a reassuring squeeze, Remus jumped and gaped at James, as though he'd forgotten the other boys were still there.

"Why are you just standing there?" Remus demanded. "You've got to get back into the castle!"

"What about you?" James asked.

"I'll see if I can make it to the Willow—"

"The _what_?" Sirius' mouth had fallen open. "The Willow? The _Whomping_ Willow?"

Kicking nervously at a small mound of leaves, Remus nodded. "That's how I get into the house in Hogsmeade. The… the Shrieking Shack – is that what you called it?"

"You sure you can make it on your own?" James asked.

Remus scowled. "I'm not a—" A sudden, pained gasp interrupted Remus' protest, and he staggered. He would have fallen, had James not caught him.

James and Sirius exchanged glances. There was no way Remus would be able to crawl to the Whomping Willow in time. Not without help. And if he stayed here, and Greyback woke up, or someone was sneaking around on the grounds, or Remus found his way to Hogsmeade… James shuddered. Too many things could go wrong.

He didn't know how long they had until the transformation, but he hoped desperately that they would have enough time to get Remus to the Whomping Willow. James and Sirius could go inside once they knew their friend would be safe.

"Come on, Remus," said Sirius, draping one of Remus' arms across his shoulders. "It'll go faster if you let us help."

"But—"

"Not now," James said, urging Remus forward. "You're right; we haven't got much time. But we ought to be able to make it."

Remus didn't protest again, and James wondered if the approaching transformation was distracting him. Every now and then, Remus would stumble or hiss in sudden pain. Each time, it tore at James' heart. He'd read books about werewolves, he'd imagined Remus in pain and even heard the screams from the Shrieking Shack, but none of that was quite as bad as _this; _none of it was as agonizing as standing beside him, feeling the shudders wracking his body, supporting him when the pain threatened to bring him to his knees. He was so close, and yet James could do nothing to ease Remus' suffering.

They ran when they could and half-dragged, half-carried Remus when he couldn't force his legs to support him, and before long the Whomping Willow came into sight. They passed Hagrid's hut as the latest in a string of violent tremors subsided, and Remus forced himself to run once more.

But then, halfway to the Willow, Remus froze. James and Sirius, who each held one of Remus' arms, stumbled and nearly fell at the abrupt halt. At first, James thought another spasm had taken hold, but Remus remained on his feet, a look of horror carved on his face.

"Remus," said James. "What's—?"

"Run," Remus breathed.

Sirius shook his head. "We're almost there, Remus. Two more minutes."

Remus' hands seized his friends' sleeves convulsively. "I don't _have_ two more minutes!" he snapped. "You've got to run!"

Then the tremors did come, and Remus' grip on James' sleeve tightened as Remus swayed on his feet. James moved to help him stay on his feet, but Remus' head snapped up, his eyes blazing. Releasing his friends' robes, Remus whirled and shoved James so hard he fell, landing with a jarring _thud_ on the hard ground.

"_Run!_" Remus thundered. "Don't let me hurt you, James! I— I couldn't— I—" He gasped and crashed to his knees.

From where he sat, stunned at the force behind Remus' shove, James could just make out the rim of the moon emerging from the trees to the east.

James shot to his feet. "Sirius…"

Frowning, Sirius followed James' gaze. "Oh, Merlin."

"RUN!"

Remus' hoarse cry finally spurred James into motion. He seized Sirius' arm, spun towards the castle, and broke into a sprint. He could hear Remus behind him, gasping and moaning, but all thoughts of turning back flew from his mind as the light of the full moon burned his eyes. _Get to the castle_, he told himself. _Get inside._

_ 'Don't let me hurt you.'_

It was the one thing that truly scared Remus. More than rejection, more than joining Greyback's pack, Remus feared for his friends' safety. That was why he had agreed to go with Greyback; that was why he had told James and the others to leave when they came after him…

That was why James _had_ to reach the castle before Remus fully transformed. He wasn't afraid of being hurt, or of becoming a werewolf himself. Those possibilities were nothing to what the guilt would do to Remus_._

_He'd never forgive himself_, James thought, pushing his legs to pump faster. He could see the front doors up ahead, and the sight gave him fresh energy. He could make it. He and Sirius would shut Remus out in the night, and then go to Dumbledore – he had to know, surely, about Remus' condition, and if anyone could ensure that nothing happened with Remus roaming the grounds, it would be the Headmaster.

_Almost there._

Remus screamed.

It wasn't a conscious decision to turn, but James found himself staring back across the distance anyway. Remus was a shadow on the ground, writhing and indistinct. The screams were the same screams James had heard so many months ago in Hogsmeade. Agonized, maddening screams – but strangled, as though Remus were fighting with everything he had to remain silent, to not let his friends know his pain.

Tears pricked behind James' eyes. He didn't realize he'd taken a step towards Remus until Sirius tugged on his arm.

"_James._ Come on!"

_He needs us_, James wanted to say. _We should be doing something – _anything_ – to help him. How can I walk away when one of my best friends is screaming like that?_

Sirius seemed to understand his hesitation, for he sighed. "_James_. There's nothing we can do for him tonight, except…"

"Except make sure he doesn't do anything," James finished, tearing his eyes away. Remus' screams faltered momentarily, then rang out again, louder and more ragged that before. Feeling as though his heart were being torn in two, James turned and struck out for the castle once more. "We'll be there for him in the morning, though."

"Of course," said Sirius, running beside James. "I don't care if we have to blast the ruddy door down. We're going to be there as soon as they bring him in, and we aren't leaving until he does."

"Or McGonagall drags us out by the ears," James added, speaking loudly to drown out Remus' screams. It didn't work. The words from the books he'd read came back to him with sickening clarity, carried on Remus' screams like ice on a winter wind.

_Wounds inflicted by werewolves are cursed wounds and cannot be healed magically._

"I don't care if we have to sit in the Hospital Wing until the end of term," James said, fighting down the bile that rose in his throat— _Both bite and scratch wounds will leave permanent scars — _as Remus' voice petered out into gasping sobs. "He's never going to go through this alone again."

_Fractured bones, dislocated joints, and torn muscles frequently result from this transformation._

With a gasp, Remus fell silent, then screamed again, louder than ever.

_"Never_ again."

Sirius remained silent, but James could see the anguish on his face as they hurried onward.

He knew the instant the transformation was complete, for the screams became a howl, long and high and keening. Snuffling followed, and then large and heavy paws pounded against the ground. James ran, pouring every ounce of energy into the effort, but the loping rhythm drew ever nearer, and James knew with a terrible certainty that he could not outrun a werewolf.

He spun, drawing his wand, and saw the wolf approaching like a wisp of smoke, pale and shadowy. It would be upon him in seconds, unless he did something to stop it…

_Him,_ James reminded himself. Not 'it;' _him._

This was Remus, no matter what he looked like. No matter that his teeth gleamed like bone in the moonlight, or that a growl was building in his throat. He was still Remus, and James could not bring himself to curse his friend, even in self-defense.

"_Potter! _Get _down_!" McGonagall's panicked voice pierced James' shock, and he dove to the side as a spell flashed past. It struck Remus' snout, knocking him into the air. He landed in a heap several feet away and lay still.

"Remus!" James cried.

McGonagall was suddenly at his side, face pale and drawn. "You know?" she breathed.

James ignored her and stumbled toward Remus. "Is he alright?"

"He'll be fine, Potter," said Lynx, who stood at Sirius' side, wand aimed steadily at Remus' crumpled form. Madam Pomfrey stood a few feet behind him, looking shaken. "Better'n fine. Stunners don't do much to a werewolf. Now get movin', before he wakes up."

McGonagall placed a hand on James' shoulder. "Get inside, Potter. We'll— I _told_ you to stay inside, Pettigrew."

James turned, surprised, to find Peter hovering in the square of light falling from the open doors. He stood as still as a statue, staring past McGonagall to where Remus lay.

"Peter?" Sirius asked, apparently just as startled as James. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I went to find a professor," said Peter, focusing with some difficulty on his friends. "After I left the—" he glanced nervously at McGongall— "the Forest. I found McGonagall and Lynx talking to Madam Pomfrey, and I told them what was going on."

"And good thing," said Madam Pomfrey, clutching at the collar of her robes. "If we hadn't arrived when we did, Mr. Potter—"

"You're very lucky to be alive," McGonagall agreed with a disapproving frown.

James scowled. "Remus wouldn't have killed me."

Scoffing, Lynx stalked over the James, who realized with an odd sense of detachment that the man was only a few inches taller than him. He'd never been this close to the Defense professor, and he found the piercing eyes more than a little unnerving.

"Don't think he'd kill you, do you?" Lynx scoffed. "He can't control himself while the moon's full. You could be his own blood and he'd still tear you to pieces."

James opened his mouth to retort, but McGonagall cut across him: "Take them inside, Poppy. I don't care if you have to sedate them; I want them to stay in the Hospital Wing until morning."

"But what about Remus?" asked Peter in a small voice.

"Never mind him," Lynx barked. "Just _go_."

A rumbling growl drew every eye to Remus, who staggered to his feet, teeth bared, though he shook his head drunkenly.

"_Poppy,_" McGonagall snapped, and Madam Pomfrey sprang into motion at once, reaching out to herd the students toward the doors. McGonagall waited only long enough to see that Madam Pomfrey was listening. Then McGonagall was gone, leaving in her place a tabby cat that sprang toward Remus.

The cat was difficult to see in the darkness – her stripes vanished in the colorless grass, and her movements were so fluid that she seemed nothing more than the shadow of a shifting cloud. But the wolf obviously caught her scent, for he crouched low to the ground, snarling at the cat, his fur standing on end.

There was a yelp as the cat swiped the wolf's snout, then turned and streaked off, leading the wolf away from the humans.

"What's she doing?" Sirius demanded, gaping after the retreating animals.

James, too, stared after them in awe and terror. "We've got to help her!"

The dirt at James' feet exploded before he could take a step to follow Professor McGonagall.

"You aren't going anywhere, Potter," said Lynx, his wand aimed now at James, "except where Poppy tells you."

"But—"

Remus howled in the distance, and another, fainter howl answered him. Lynx whirled around, and Madam Pomfrey covered a gasp.

"Greyback!" James cried.

Lynx swore and took off at a run.

"_What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?_" Madam Pomfrey shrieked. "You can't take him on alone!"

Lynx snorted, his stride never slowing. "Get those idiot students inside, Poppy! I'll be alright." He patted his pocket, and James caught sight of a deranged grin. "I've got luck on my side!" He cut a strange figure, short robes flapping comically about his ankles, wispy hair and thick spectacles catching the moonlight as he vanished over a rise of land.

"We aren't actually going to let them handle a pair of werewolves on their own," said Sirius slowly as the night descended into silence. "Are we?"

Madam Pomfrey looked as though she would very much like to chase after Lynx and give him a long, furious lecture, but she pursed her lips and turned back toward the castle. "That's exactly what we're going to do. And the three of you are going to the Hospital Wing— no complaints, Mr. Black," she added, as Sirius looked mutinous. James scowled; Madam Pomfrey scowled right back. "I will Stun you, Mr. Potter, if need be."

After a moment, Peter set off toward the doors, obviously unwilling to risk the matron's wrath. James and Sirius hesitated a moment longer, but the grounds were utterly still, and no more howls broke the silence. Sighing, James allowed himself to be steered inside.

Halfway across the Entrance Hall, they met Dumbledore, whose face was set into a grave mask.

"I've just spoken to Filius," said Dumbledore. "Is Fenrir Greyback still on the grounds?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded solemnly. "Stuvis went after him. Minerva is dealing with Remus."

Dumbledore's glance flickered to the three Gryffindors standing beside Madam Pomfrey. He eyed them appraisingly, then nodded. "Then I shall go to Professor Lynx."

"What about McGongall?" James demanded.

"She turned into a cat, Professor," said Sirius. "What chance has she got against Remus?"

The barest hint of a smile tugged at Dumbledore's face. "A better one than any human," he said. "Mr. Lupin will not pursue her as fiercely as Fenrir will Professor Lynx. Nor will Mr. Lupin be able to turn her while she is in that form."

James gasped. "You mean—?"

"Only humans can be infected," said Sirius. "I'd forgot."

"And Professor McGonagall's a cat." Peter's eyes had gone very wide, and he stared at Dumbledore in awe. "So she'll really be alright?"

"She and Mr. Lupin both," said Dumbledore. "But I am afraid I cannot stay and talk with you any longer. Stuvis is not an animagus, and Fenrir Greyback is far more vicious than Mr. Lupin." He glanced at Madam Pomfrey. "I will speak with them in the morning, Poppy. I trust you will care for them until then."

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Of course, sir."

But Dumbledore was already gone, disappearing through the front doors in a swirl of robes and wind. The doors thudded shut.

-.-.-

Madam Pomfrey wasted no time in herding her charges to the Hospital Wing, where she bullied them into taking sleeping potions. She would not listen to their protests or their pleas to be allowed to sit up until Remus returned in the morning.

"That's hours away," she said shortly, after Sirius had knocked aside a bottle of the sleeping draught, which smashed on the floor. "And I'll not have you pestering him until I've treated him, in any case. Now, unless you think yourselves capable of calming enough to fall asleep on your own, I suggest you take the potion."

Peter relented easily enough, and even Sirius eventually gave in. James was the last to take the potion, and he did so with a sense of deep resignation. He wished he could be out there with Remus... The potion took effect quickly, carrying James to the hazy region between sleep and wakefulness, where his mind spun with half-formed thoughts and worries and a vague notion of, _If only I was a cat like McGonagall._ He hardly noticed when, long minutes later, the Hospital Wing doors burst open to admit two newcomers.

"Headmaster!" Madam Pomfrey cried, her voice echoing as though a great distance separated James from the rest of the world. "What—?" She broke off with a gasp, and someone scoffed.

"Don't go faintin' on me, Pomfrey. I'm not dyin'; it's only a shallow wound."

James heard the sound of broken glass pattering to the floor, along with a steady dripping and a low, bitter chuckle.

"Damn luck."

* * *

**A/N: When James and Sirius sneak out to the Forbidden Forest, Remus remembers the night he was attacked, and he does the only thing he can think to do: He snitches. Chapter 10 of _Moony's Story,_ "January 1973: Echoes," is up for your reading pleasure!**


	27. After the Moon

**Chapter 27: After the Moon**

James awoke slowly, the lingering effects of the sleeping potion blurring his vision and muddling up his thoughts. He suspected morning had come, if only because the first time he tried to open his eyes, it felt as though golden needles were stabbing into his brain. With a groan, he fumbled with the stiff, heavy blanket covering him and finally managed to pull it over his face.

"Ah, awake at last, Mr. Potter?"

Dumbledore's voice was light and cheerful, and James wondered dully if the Headmaster knew what had happened last night. Perhaps he was being kind and letting James wake up before the scolding began.

"Is that all you have to say, Albus?" McGonagall asked sharply, and James almost sighed in relief. At least he knew where he stood with his Head of House. "They broke curfew, entered the Forbidden Forest, dueled Fenrir Greyback, and stared down a fully-transformed werewolf—"

"Remus," James grunted, risking the sunlight once more so he could glare at the fuzzy figures of the professors. Didn't they realize how rude it was to talk about Remus like he was just some wild animal?

He could tell they were staring at him, but without his glasses, he couldn't hope to make out their expressions.

"Over here, mate."

James turned toward Sirius' voice just as a blur landed on his chest. His spectacles. He put them on gratefully, and the world slid into focus. In the next bed over, Sirius sat cross-legged, leaning back against the headboard and looking utterly at ease with being in the Hospital Wing for the second time in less than a year. Peter was on Sirius' other side, also sitting up, though he looked somewhat groggier.

Pushing himself up onto his elbows, James turned back to McGonagall and Dumbledore, who stood a few feet away, near a curtain that had been drawn for privacy. The two professors exchanged a long, inscrutable look – well, inscrutable except for the smile that tugged at Dumbledore's lips.

"I fail to see the humor in this, Albus," McGonagall muttered – James would have said she sounded petulant, had he not feared she would give him detention for even suggesting such a thing. "They _know_."

"Of course we know," said Sirius, rolling his eyes. "We aren't _that_ thick."

"Even if it _did_ take us a year and a half of dorming with him to realize," James added, rubbing the back of his head where his hair stuck up at an odd angle.

Peter covered a yawn, blinking blearily. "Is he back yet? Can we see him?"

With a frown, McGonagall glanced at Dumbledore. "I don't—"

"A splendid idea," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling like mad as McGonagall gaped at him. "Now, now, Minerva. You know as well as I that we have a great deal to discuss. Mr. Lupin ought to be part of that conversation, don't you think?"

He didn't wait for a response, but slipped behind the curtain. A murmur of voices drifted out for a brief moment, but it was silenced as the curtain fell back into place.

_Ruddy privacy charms,_ James thought, scowling. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and stretched his aching muscles. After running across the grounds and back, not to mention dueling a grown wizard, it seemed his body had had enough. But aside from the soreness, James seemed to be unharmed. Lynx's mad lessons must have paid off, or perhaps Greyback simply wasn't as dangerous as he seemed.

"You blokes alright?" James asked, sending a furtive glance toward the curtain. Best to ask this before Remus could hear.

Sirius nodded, hopping off his bed. "Never better. Pete?"

Peter rubbed at a bandage on his forearm. "Greyback must've got me," he said in a low voice. "Madam Pomfrey couldn't heal it with magic. But it's just a scratch, really. My grandmum's cat's done worse."

Laughing, James eyed McGonagall, who stood stiffly at her post by the curtain, staring at the three boys with an unnerving expression. James couldn't tell if she was angry, or frustrated, or simply confused. She definitely wasn't happy.

James kicked his feet and waited for someone to break the suddenly awkward silence. Sirius opened his mouth several times as though to do just that, but no words came out, and each time he snapped his mouth shut a few seconds later, crossed his arms, and glared at the curtain. Peter watched his friends intently, watched McGonagall for signs of danger, watched the curtain that hid Remus from them. (Was he alright, James wondered? Did they not want his friends to see him in his current state?)

And McGonagall continued on with her blasted stare.

When at last the curtain twitched aside, James was the first to sprint across the room, eager to see Remus, to reassure himself that his friend was alright – and to reassure Remus that they'd truly meant it when they said they didn't care he was a werewolf.

His approach was blocked, quite abruptly, by McGonagall, who had drawn her wand. She made no move to hex James, only to stop him, but with a jolt, James recognized the expression on her face. It was wariness, and scarcely-concealed fear.

She thought he was going to hurt Remus.

He planted his feet, lifted his chin, and stared McGonagall in the eyes. "Can I please see my friend, _Professor_?" he asked in a tight voice. There was a small, quiet part of him that tried to be fair. Remus had been afraid of his friends' reactions, too, after all, and wasn't it a good thing that McGonagall wanted to protect him?

This voice, however, was drowned out by the rest of James, which felt a burning indignation that McGonagall would think that of him.

"We aren't going to attack him, if that's what you're worried about."

Sirius, who had come up beside James, stiffened. "Is _that_ what this is about?"

"Minerva…" Dumbledore stood beside Madam Pomfrey, frowning at McGonagall.

McGonagall shifted uncomfortably. "They're only children, Albus. They can't possibly be expected to understand."

"What is there to understand?" Sirius demanded. "Remus is our friend. He just happens to sprout fur once a month."

James was pleased to see the shock written across McGonagall's face. Even Madam Pomfrey looked up, startled at Sirius' bluntness and levity. Both women seemed dumbstruck.

"It's alright, Professor McGonagall," said Remus softly. "I trust them."

McGonagall turned and seemed to have a silent exchange with Remus, whom James could not see. At length, the rigid set of her shoulders eased and she stepped aside.

Remus reclined against a mound of pillows, looking small and impossibly frail, his skin nearly as white as the sheets. Madam Pomfrey had not yet finished tending his wounds, and long, jagged red lines laced his bare arms and chest; a crescent of deep punctures marked his left wrist. Only his right shoulder had been bandaged, and broad smears of blood had already soaked through the white cotton.

And the scars – scores of them, tracing a pattern on his ribs and stomach, his shoulders and arms. They wove together like tree branches, the fresh crossing the old at little, raised knots, spinning a history of agony and shame.

For several painful heartbeats, James could not force himself to move. He stood staring at Remus, who quickly dropped his gaze, a vivid flush coloring his cheeks.

"I…" Remus twisted the blanket nervously as a struggle played across his face. "I didn't… hurt any of you, did I?"

"Of course not," James whispered, blinking furiously as his feet carried him forward, to the edge of Remus' bed. He paused briefly, afraid of hurting Remus even more, then sat down, leaned forward, and pulled Remus into a tentative embrace. "I'm so sorry, Remus."

Remus went rigid, and James was afraid he'd agitated his wounds.

"Sorry?" Remus asked, sounding stunned, but not pained. "What for?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Sirius asked. He and Peter had joined James on Remus' bed, and as James pulled back, they each hugged Remus in turn. "We don't like to see you hurting like this."

Guilt flickered across Peter's face, but he met Remus' eyes steadily. "Greyback was wrong, Remus," said Peter. "We _do_ still like you."

Remus' lip trembled, but he was smiling as he said, "I know."

-.-.-

Before long, the questions started coming, and James, Sirius, and Peter recounted their story, from Sirius' first suspicions to their research in the library to the duel in the forest. They spoke mostly to Dumbledore and McGonagall, who seemed intent on learning every last detail, but every so often, James caught Remus staring at him, a dazed expression on his face. James would smile, and Remus, shaking off his astonishment, would return a grin that grew a little broader each time James saw it.

When at last their story was told and the professors had no more questions, James turned to Remus, dozens of questions of his own burning to be asked. But Madam Pomfrey's patience was running thin, and she demanded an hour of peace to dress Remus' wounds without questions and excitement to distract him.

So it was that James found himself marching up to Dumbledore's office with Sirius, Peter, and McGonagall. It was shortly after seven o'clock, and a few students were beginning to trickle down to breakfast. Those who knew James and his friends didn't seem surprised to see them being escorted by professors so early in the morning; they merely smirked at their friends and began to speculate about what prank had been pulled _this_ time.

This was the first time James had been to the Dumbledore's office – he hadn't yet pulled a prank that offended the unflappable Dumbledore or aggravated McGonagall to the point of referring them to the Headmaster – and it was an impressive sight. Rich, polished wood shelves lined the walls, displaying ancient tomes and whizzing gizmos; a phoenix perched on a silver stand by the windows, which gave a stunning view of the sunrise.

As he peered out over the peaceful grounds, James couldn't quite believe what had happened there a few short hours ago. Two werewolves had been loose last night, but he wouldn't have known it if he hadn't been an eyewitness.

Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk and gestured for the others to sit in the various chairs arranged around the room. James, Sirius, and Peter each claimed a seat, but McGonagall remained standing by the door, frowning deeply.

"I hope you realize how foolish it was to go chasing after Fenrir Greyback last night," McGonagall said crossly.

James frowned. "We didn't _mean_ to go after Greyback."

"We just wanted to make sure Remus was alright," Sirius said.

"It was our fault he ran off anyway," Peter added, scuffing his feet across the carpet.

McGonagall sighed. "I know." James looked up, surprised to hear no anger in her voice. She looked immensely tired, but she offered a small smile – the first James could remember ever seeing on her face. "Under any other circumstances, I would be forced to subtract a rather large number of points from Gryffindor. However…" She glanced at Dumbledore. "The Headmaster believes there was some merit in your actions."

Dumbledore laughed. "What Professor McGonagall means is that, while foolish, your actions ultimately proved to be in Mr. Lupin's best interests. Few people would show such kindness towards someone with his condition, and your friendship has done more for Remus than all the healing in the world."

"But…" James frowned. "We've only known for a few weeks, and Remus only found out we know last night. We haven't had a chance to do anything yet."

Shaking her head, McGonagall regarded the three boys curiously. "You have never seen Remus the morning after his transformations, so I suppose you wouldn't know… He doesn't often smile while Poppy treats him. Certainly not as much as he has already this morning."

"You have given him a gift," Dumbledore said softly, smiling at them. "You may not yet realize what a tremendous thing it is that you have done, but it has already had an impact on him."

James looked at his friends, not sure what to make of the professors' words. They made it sound as though they were some sort of heroes for sticking by their friend, as though any other student would have turned his back on Remus. But to James, it felt natural. He could not imagine anyone doing differently. Even Peter had only wavered for a short time, and only because of the attack in Hogsmeade. James had never doubted that Peter would come around.

And yet Greyback had lost his friends, and his family. They had learned of Greyback's condition, and they had turned their backs on him, casting him aside like so much rubbish. Perhaps it wasn't so surprising that Remus had feared his friends would do the same.

"Sir," said James as the silence drew on.

"Yes?"

"Last night, Greyback said something. He said that he'd been contacting Remus all year, trying to get him to leave Hogwarts. Is that… Is it true?"

Dumbledore sighed, folding his hands on the desk and regarding them thoughtfully. "It is. He first sent Mr. Lupin a letter in November. A letter that upset him greatly."

Dimly, James remembered Remus running out of the Great Hall one morning, a letter clutched in trembling hands. He had not turned up in class that day, and his friends had later found him in the dormitory, lost in thought.

"It seems that Fenrir had just discovered Mr. Lupin's presence at Hogwarts," Dumbledore went on. "And he was jealous. Mr. Lupin had not known who bit him until that day, but Fenrir included enough information in the letter that together Mr. Lupin and I were able to uncover the truth."

"What did the letter say?" Sirius asked.

"It contained a veiled threat against Mrs. Lupin." Dumbledore frowned. "I do not believe Fenrir intended to follow through on that particular threat, merely to capture Mr. Lupin's attention, but Mr. Lupin was understandably disturbed.

"There was no further contact until the days after Christmas."

"The attack on Creetown?" Peter guessed.

Dumbledore nodded. "Another attempt to frighten Mr. Lupin, I believe. It was not the full moon; Fenrir and his pack had stolen wands from previous victims and attacked the muggles. If he had truly meant harm to Mr. Lupin or his mother, he would have waited until he was sure one or both of them were present."

"Then the letters started coming," McGonagall went on. "Remus came to me on several occasions with the letters he had received – invitations to join Greyback's pack, threats against Remus and his mother, questions about his friends and Remus himself…" She shuddered. "You may recall that the Headmaster had moved Mrs. Lupin to a safe-house and warded it against attack, but all the same, we checked in on her every week - to soothe Remus' anxiety. It soon came to our attention that Greyback had come to Hogwarts and was watching Remus from the Forest."

James shivered. "So it was him we saw in the Forest that night."

McGonagall's eyes closed, as though the thought pained her. "When Remus came to me that night, white as a sheet and hardly able to gather his wits, we were afraid Greyback would attempt to kidnap you. He'd noticed you going around with Remus, you see, and we thought he might try to use you against him."

Nodding, James ran a hand through his hair. No wonder Remus had gone to the professors. James could only imagine what he must have been feeling, knowing his friends were out in the forest with the same monster that had turned him into a werewolf.

James wondered if he could ever do enough to make up for all the stupid things he'd done that year.

"After that night," Dumbledore went on gravely, "Fenrir turned his threats to the three of you. He realized by then that he couldn't reach Mrs. Lupin through the wards we had put up, but it was more difficult to protect you, and Remus was seriously considering giving in to Fenrir's demands. But the next few months passed with hardly a word from him."

"How come?" Sirius asked, brow furrowed.

Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged looks. "He left the area for a time," said McGonagall slowly. "Though we don't know precisely why, or where he went."

"He returned one month ago," said Dumbledore. "The night he attacked Hogsmeade. Afterward, he redoubled his efforts to persuade Mr. Lupin, this time adding a deadline. He said if Mr. Lupin had not agreed to go with him by the end of term, he would come to each of your houses this summer and attack you."

James blanched. "He couldn't really…"

"No," said Dumbledore. "Not anymore. We've already set up defenses around your homes to be certain— well, not yours, Mr. Black, but I dare say the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black already boasts enough protective spells to keep out an army of werewolves. Regardless, after last night, Fenrir must realize that we know of his threats. He will not risk coming after you. Not for a long while, at least."

"What happened to Lynx?" Sirius asked suddenly. "He went after Greyback last night, didn't he?"

From the looks on the professors' faces, James knew it was not good news.

Dumbledore sighed. "He succeeded in driving Fenrir off, and in wounding him quite severely. However, Fenrir bit Professor Lynx in the struggle. He's at St. Mungo's now—"

"Not willingly," McGonagall muttered, and a smile tugged at Dumbledore's face.

"He will survive, but I'm afraid he was infected. He has already resigned his post as Defense professor."

There was a long, silent moment, during which James felt his stomach tie itself in knots. Did Remus know, he wondered? He could only imagine how awful his friend would feel, even though he hadn't been the one to bite Lynx.

"Professor," said Peter hesitantly as the silence stretched on. "Last night, when he went after Greyback, Lynx said something about luck... What did he mean?"

This question elicited an immediate - and rather amusing - reaction in both the professors. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily as he smiled at McGonagall, whose lips had pressed together into a very thin line. Her eyes twitched, and James suspected she was on the verge of rolling her eyes.

"Lynx has an... unusual view of the world," McGonagall said slowly, as though she were choosing her words very carefully. "It is his belief that by carrying certain... talismans... one can avoid harm."

"What?" James asked, fighting down a grin. "You're not serious."

McGonagall scowled. "I'm afraid I am."

"Professor Lynx spent a number of years in the Auror Department," said Dumbledore, smile growing as McGonagall's frown deepened. "During that time, he came to believe that his survival - and others' injuries and deaths - could be attributed to luck." At James' incredulous snort, Dumbledore added, "Even those most intimately acquainted with magic sometimes find themselves enthralled by superstitions."

McGonagall scoffed. "Lynx thought, in short, that by carrying a lucky charm with him last night, he could not be harmed. A belief that was, in a spectacularly unsurprising turn of events, proven to be unfounded."

James and Peter exchanged bemused looks while Sirius snorted into his hand. They had never heard McGonagall talk about another professor with such obvious disdain - had never heard her speak with any measure of sarcasm - and James looked at her with new respect.

"What sort of 'lucky charms' does he use?" Sirius asked, snickering.

McGonagall's eyebrows arched delicately. "Did you never wonder why he owned so many jars of dead body parts?"

Sirius' smile vanished. "He thought dead people would bring him luck?"

"An archaic superstition, but not wholly unheard-of," Dumbledore put in. "Some muggles hold that touching a corpse is the only way to rid oneself of the fear of death, or that carrying the seed on which a loved one choked can prevent a similar fate befalling the bearer. Professor Lynx came to believe that if he had a portion of an Auror killed by a particular curse or creature, he would be granted a measure of protection."

"Since we learned of Greyback's presence on the grounds," McGonagall said, the scorn in her voice muted but not altogether absent, "Lynx has taken to carrying the fingernail of one of Greyback's less fortunate victims on his person at all times."

"Weird," breathed James.

McGonagall looked as though she wanted to agree, but she held her tongue.

At length, Sirius broke the silence. "What about Remus?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "What about him?"

"Well…" Sirius hesitated. "When the Ministry hears about Greyback, won't they realize that Remus is a werewolf?"

"And if they find out he's been going to Hogwarts," said James, alarmed, as he recalled the Residence Law, "they'll send him to Azkaban!"

McGonagall and Dumbledore appeared quite shocked by this declaration.

"P-Potter!" McGonagall stammered. "Where on _Earth_ did you get an idea like that?"

James crossed his arms. "The library. One of the books said that if a werewolf lives with someone who's under age, he could be sent to Azkaban!"

"You misunderstand," said Dumbledore calmly. "That law refers to one's _legal_ residence, which in the case of Mr. Lupin would be his home outside Creetown. I assure you, I would never put a student in a position that might lead them to Azkaban."

James nodded slowly. "But the Ministry can't be _happy_ about him going here, can they? With all the other laws they've passed…"

Sighing, Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid you are correct, Mr. Potter. Mr. Lupin is not breaking any laws by coming here, but if certain individuals in the Ministry of Magic realized I'd invited a werewolf to my school, they would do everything in their power to prevent it happening again."

"They wouldn't try to say Remus should've asked permission?"

Dumbledore smiled at this. "Ah, but you see, he _has_ asked permission."

"He has?" Peter asked.

"Indeed. Two members of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures were involved in the preparations for Mr. Lupin's arrival – one each from the Being Division and the Beast Division. They approved his accommodations for the full moon, discussed safety measures with the staff, and filed all the appropriate forms. No one can say that Mr. Lupin hasn't done everything necessary to comply with Ministry regulations."

"Really?"

"Yes." Dumbledore paused. "Although you must understand. Just because Mr. Lupin has every right to be here, that doesn't mean it is a good idea to spread his secret around the school."

"Of course not!" Sirius said indignantly.

James huffed. "We'd never do that!"

"Excellent. You see, if Remus' condition were to become public knowledge, he would face a great deal of prejudice and opposition, and he may be forced to withdraw from the school for his own safety. Not to mention the Ministry officials who approved his enrollment may face discipline at work."

"And they still helped him?" Peter asked. "Even though they could get in trouble for it?" Dumbledore's eyes rested on Peter for a long moment, and the boy soon began to squirm. "What?"

Smiling, Dumbledore shook his head. "Perhaps it is not my place to tell you, but... After the events of last night, I am sure he wouldn't mind."

"Who wouldn't mind, sir?" Peter asked.

"Your father."

"My father?"

"Phillip Pettigrew," said Dumbledore. "Of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Beast Division. The man who helped me prepare the, ah, 'Shrieking Shack,' I believe?" A knowing glint in Dumbledore's eyes gave James the impression that their midnight wanderings had not been as secret as he would have liked, and all three boys stared abashedly at the blue-hued rug under their feet. "Who helped me prepare the Shrieking Shack for Mr. Lupin's use."

Peter looked up sharply, apparently dumbstruck, and so it was James who asked, "You mean Peter's dad was one of the people who made sure Remus could come?"

"Precisely."

James turned, beaming, to ask Peter why he'd never told them his dad helped werewolves, but before he could say anything, Peter leaned forward, face pained.

"He can't have."

James blinked, Sirius frowned, and McGonagall's brow furrowed, but Dumbledore only smiled. "Can't he have?"

Peter shook his head. "My dad wouldn't help Remus. He _couldn't_! He works in the Beast Department! It's his job to send werewolves to Azkaban or—" Peter cut off with a crimson flush, but he'd said enough. James gaped at him, mind reeling.

"Peter..." Sirius said, sounding numb, his eyes wide. "Your dad... You..."

"That's why you..." James stared at Peter as understanding sank in.

Reluctantly, Peter met his eyes. "My dad fights werewolves on the full moon." His eyes darted back to Dumbledore. "And he's been injured loads of times. He almost _died_ a few years ago. He'd never help a werewolf."

A smile twitched at Dumbledore's lips. "Indeed? To my knowledge, he has only been attacked by a werewolf on one occasion."

"Then you're wrong," Peter said coldly, ignoring the sharp intake of breath from the corner where McGonagall stood. "I've seen him come home the morning after a full moon with cuts that don't heal. I've seen his scars - scars the healers can't mend. He's been attacked at least a half dozen times."

"And yet the Ministry only has records of one incident."

Peter frowned. "I... I guess he didn't report them, then."

"Why would he do that, do you suppose?" Dumbledore folded his hands, waiting for Peter to respond, but when the boy failed to come up with an answer, the Headmaster went on. "After the attack - nearly six years ago, now - do you know what happened? The werewolf who scratched him - a young man quite horrified to learn what he had done - was put to death. He was not given a trial, or a second chance. He had not meant to hurt anyone, and the mistake that allowed the wolf to escape that night was not even his own, but he was killed all the same, simply because the Ministry places a lower value on his life than on the lives of those who do not suffer from lycanthropy."

James stared at Dumbledore in horror. He'd known the laws that said that werewolves who attacked people on the full moon were killed, but somehow he hadn't thought the Ministry would actually _do _it.

"When Phillip heard what had happened, he was furious," Dumbledore went on, softly, his gaze remaining steady on Peter, who's mouth was slightly agape. "He saw what so many others could not: that the man was not the same as the wolf, and that it was cruel and unjust to kill a man for something over which he had no control."

"But..." Peter shook his head. "But he still went after werewolves. He still fought them on the full moon!"

"He did. Because if he didn't, others would. Others who were less sympathetic than he. He stopped these men and women hurting others - and when they scratched him, he covered it up with stories of accidents at home, encounters with other magical creatures... His co-workers suspected the truth, but without his testimony, they could bring no charges against those who attacked him."

Sirius gasped. "He protected them!"

Nodding, Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "You see, then, why I asked him to help me prepare for Mr. Lupin's arrival. Your father is a brave man, Peter. A good man. And you are very much like him. I have no doubt he and your mother will both be very proud of you for standing by your friend."

Peter flushed and ducked his head. Then, suddenly, he brightened. "He knows Remus is a werewolf!" He grinned at James and Sirius. "And he still invited Remus over last summer, remember?"

"So that means we'll be able to see Remus this summer!" James grinned. "That's brilliant, Peter!"

Sirius pumped his fist in the air. "Wait until Remus hears!"

Smiling, Dumbledore pulled out a pocket watch. "Well, I can't imagine there's anything else I could tell you that isn't better heard from Mr. Lupin himself, so what do you say we return to the Hospital Wing before you have to leave for class?"

McGonagall frowned from her corner. "Poppy requested an hour of peace."

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "But she's known me nearly as long as you have, Minerva. She doesn't expect more than twenty minutes."

-.-.-

They opened the Hospital Wing doors onto a fierce debate.

"I'm not _dying_, Madam Pomfrey," Remus said, sounding exasperated.

The nurse sighed heavily. "Every month, Remus. Every month we have this discussion."

"So you ought to know by now why I can't stay here all day."

"You need rest."

"What I need is to stay up on my lessons. I've only got two weeks until exams! I can't afford to have a lie in!"

Sirius grinned and ducked past McGonagall and Dumbledore, who had stopped in the doorway, looking exasperated and amused, respectively.

"Cor, Rems," said Sirius playfully. "You've got permission to skive off and you're actually arguing about it? Are you ill?"

"Don't be thick," James said, flopping down across Remus' legs. Remus narrowed his eyes, but the broad grin on his face ruined the attempt at appearing annoyed. "You know how he gets." James tapped the side of his head. "He's still a little moony from last night."

A pillow smacked James in the face. Sirius laughed, and James flung the pillow at him.

Sighing, Peter joined his friends on the bed. "Are you sure you should be going to class?"

"I'm perfectly alright, Peter," said Remus, crossing his arms. "Professor Flitwick won't have us dueling or anything."

Madam Pomfrey tutted.

"I've _got_ to go," Remus said stubbornly, frowning at Madam Pomfrey. James was impressed by Remus' alacrity. No other student would dare stand up to the matron; their complaints were usually saved until after their release, when Madam Pomfrey couldn't hear.

Several tense seconds passed before McGonagall stepped forward to give Remus a severe look. "Poppy is right, Remus. I'm afraid I can't let you go to Charms today."

Remus' face took on a mullish cast. "How am I supposed to learn?"

"We'll take notes for you, Remus," said Peter.

Remus was too busy staring at his friends in wonderment to say anything for a long moment. "You'd do that?"

"Of course," said James at once.

"But you hate taking notes."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Well I'd love to swap places with you, but…"

"Yeah." Remus bit his lip and looked back to Madam Pomfrey. "But that doesn't mean I can keep on disappearing after every full moon."

"No one will—"

"_They_ noticed," Remus argued, gesturing to his friends. "What if others do, too?"

Madam Pomfrey hesitated.

James and Sirius exchanged sly grins. "Don't worry about that," said Sirius. "You just need better excuses to be gone!"

"And we happened to be masters at coming up with excuses," James added, winking. He caught McGonagall frowning at him and cringed. "Er… not that we've _ever_ had to use that particular talent, of course."

Dumbledore chuckled as McGonagall crossed her arms.

Sirius appeared not to notice. "We'll make sure no one else figures out about your furry little problem."

"M-my _what?_" Remus spluttered, stubborn scowl vanishing as he sat up straight. Peter, McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey all eyed Sirius oddly, as well. Dumbledore, on the other hand, seemed quite amused.

James snorted. "I _told_ you that was a stupid name for it."

"Better than your muggle-eating rabbit!" Sirius retorted.

"That was your idea, too!"

"Well it's not as though we can go around calling him a werewolf!"

Remus shook his head, smiling patiently. "It figures I'd find the oddest friends in the whole blasted castle."

Snickering, James nudged Remus' knee. "You know you love us, Remus."

Remus couldn't seem to come up with a suitable retort, so he remained silent.

"Right, _anyhow_." Sirius grabbed Remus' hand and shook it heartily. "Congratulations, mate. Your mum's just made a miraculous recovery."

Pulling his hand out of Sirius' grip, Remus frowned. "What are you on about?"

"Your mum," said James. "We talked, and we reckon she's been… '_sick'_… too long. Keep that up and people really _will_ get suspicious."

Remus shot the adults a pointed look, and James got the impression Remus had said the same thing many times before.

"You've got to come up with simpler stories," James went on, smirking. "Things people will forget about after a day or so. Like, say, Peeves trapping you in a stairwell."

"Or sleeping through your alarm," Sirius added. "We'd make sure Frank and Alex think you really were in your bed, too."

James nodded. "If nothing else, it'd be easy to convince everyone the four of us were getting ready for a prank." He refused to look at McGonagall, who was no doubt on the verge of exploding. Sure enough…

"Surely, Potter, you aren't suggesting that I let four students miss class on a whim every month?" There was a warning note in her voice, but James glanced at Remus and steeled his nerves. If it helped Remus, it would be worth whatever punishment McGonagall doled out.

"Not all at once…" he said. "But if the four of us take it in turns to skive off, one or two at a time, once or twice a month, then whenever Remus disappears, no one would think anything of it. They'd be so used to all of us doing it that it'd never occur to them that something else might be going on."

Sirius nodded sagely and said in a snide voice James suspected was calculated to annoy McGonagall, "Sometimes the best place to hide is in plain sight."

McGonagall shook her head. "Even so, I can't allow you to miss classes without—"

"So give us detention!" said James. "Every month after the full moon, first thing in the morning."

"Or between classes," Peter added.

"Or the night before," Sirius said.

James smiled at Remus. "We can do lines while we're here, or something. You can call it detention, and we can keep Remus company until he's ready to leave."

For a long moment, McGonagall said nothing. She obviously wasn't thrilled with the idea, but neither did she immediately dismiss it. In fact, she seemed almost impressed and kept shooting appraising glances at Remus, who merely stared at his friends, utterly flabbergasted.

At length, McGonagall turned to Dumbledore, who was smiling still. "I suppose you think this is a splendid idea."

"You know me too well, Minerva."

McGonagall sighed. Her eyes fell on James. "You're serious about this."

James nodded. "I honestly think it'll make things easier for Remus," he said.

"And if you _do_ catch us breaking any school rules…" Sirius paused just long enough to imply, _and can prove it was us_… "Then you get to set our punishment, same as always."

McGonagall's lips twitched. "I'm so relieved I have your permission to do my job, Black."

"You're welcome, McGoogles!"

Before McGonagall could throttle Sirius, Peter said, "It'll keep Remus in the Hospital Wing longer." James couldn't help but admire the sly smile that accompanied Peter's words. The boy's watery blue eyes slid sideways to the matron, who hovered silently nearby. "And with one of us here to keep him company – and the other two taking notes so he doesn't get behind – then maybe he won't pester Madam Pomfrey so much to let him go."

Remus very nearly laughed at this, but at the last instant, he managed to cover it with a noisy cough.

Madam Pomfrey, on the other hand, was buzzing with pleasure. "The boy has a point, Minerva. This may just be the solution we've been searching for!"

McGonagall scowled. Then her gaze fell on Remus, who was grinning behind his hand, and her expression softened. Shaking herself, she stood up straight and gave a curt nod. "Very well. But only _one_ of you is permitted to stay, and if I notice any of your grades slipping, we _will_ think of something else."

"Of course, Professor!" said James cheerily.

"And if I catch you using this… _scheme_ as an excuse to make mischief, I won't hesitate to dole out detentions."

Sirius gave a salute. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

McGonagall eyed them all one last time, then spun on her heel and strode from the room.

"Wonderful," said Dumbledore, clapping his hands together. "Now if I'm not mistaken, I believe it is nearly time for you to leave… or not, as the case may be." He winked. "But of course, I know nothing whatsoever about the matter. Rest well, Mr. Lupin."

"Thank you, sir," said Remus.

With a smile, Dumbledore followed McGonagall from the room. Madam Pomfrey informed them that they had five minutes, and then she excused herself to her office, leaving the four boys alone in the Hospital Wing.

"I'm staying here!" Sirius called— a second before James, who stuck out his tongue at his friend.

"Wanker," he muttered.

Sirius grinned. "You're just jealous."

Remus chuckled. "You're all mad."

"Then you must feel right at home, eh, Moony?" Sirius ribbed.

Blinking in surprise, Remus raised an eyebrow. "Moony?"

"It's got a nice ring, don't you think?" Sirius beamed.

"I don't…"

James frowned. "If it bothers you, we'll lay off."

But Remus shook his head. "No, I just… You really don't care about…?"

"Never in a million years," Sirius said firmly.

Peter cringed, and James placed a hand on his shoulder. "It was a lot to swallow at first," said James as gently as he could, "but you're our friend. We aren't going to let this change anything."

Remus smiled and played with a string hanging off his bandages. "Thank you."

"It's nothing."

"Yes it is," said Remus. He looked up, and James saw tears in his eyes. "It's _everything_."

James' eyes burned, and he blinked furiously to keep the moisture at bay. Clearing his throat, he stood up. "Right, well c'mon Pete. We're going to be late."

"I haven't got my book," said Peter, standing. "Or anything to write with."

"Madam Pomfrey had the house elves get my bag." Remus ran a hand across his eyes and gestured toward the matron's office. "You'll have to share the book, but I've got two quills and plenty of parchment."

"Thanks, Moony!" James reached into the pocket of his robe. "Have you still got the parchment, Sirius? I'll—" He broke off with a cry of dismay as his hand found Andromeda's parchment square. It had been torn in two.

Remus looked pained. "That happened last night, didn't it?"

"It must've ripped in the duel," said James, trying not to sound disappointed. "_Reparo._" The tear knit back together, but it left the parchment with a limp, raggedy look it hadn't had before, despite being shoved in pockets and bags countless times. James bit his lip. "It might still work. Get yours, Sirius."

The quill James had brought with him the night before was not in his pocket – a large, ragged hole had been slashed in the fabric, and the quill seemed to have fallen out during the excitement. Sirius, though, still had his quill, and he quickly wrote _Hello _on his parchment square. One second passed… two seconds.

The word stayed where it was on Sirius' square. James' remained blank.

"I'm sorry, Sirius," Remus said.

"Don't worry about it." Sirius crumpled up the parchment and shoved it into his pocket. "Just some old rubbish anyway."

Remus didn't answer, but James knew they were all thinking the same thing. The parchment squares had been much more than a way to sneak notes during class, or while creeping around the castle after hours. They had been the only sure way for Sirius to contact his friends during the holidays. He didn't trust his parents not to read his post, and he was only allowed to owl Peter in any case.

Sirius forced a smile. "Best get Remus' things from Madam Pomfrey, or you'll be late to Charms."

Mirroring Sirius' smile, James nodded. "Try not to have too much fun without us."

"Sure thing, mate." A mischievous glint entered Sirius' eyes. "We'll just be planning our next prank."

Remus shook his head, some of the guilt leaving his face. "You're leaving me alone with him?"

"What, you expect us to take him with?" James laughed. "We're smarter than that."

"Just be glad it's not the both of them," Peter said.

Grimacing, Remus eyed Sirius. "That's a fair point. Hurry back."

-.-.-

"I want to show you something," said Remus softly as the four boys left dinner on Saturday.

Two days had passed since the full moon, and James had hardly left Remus' side except to sleep and use the toilet - and once, on Friday, when McGonagall had taken Remus aside to tell him of Lynx's fate. Remus had been quiet and morose when he had rejoined his friends, and had refused to talk about it, but he had cheered up before much longer, thanks to Sirius' incessant chatter about their next prank.

The constant attention from his friends seemed to startle Remus, but he didn't protest. Even if he had, James didn't think it would have made a difference. Now that he knew how close he'd come to losing one of his best friends, James wanted to do everything in his power to let Remus know he was wanted. He had fetched sweets from the kitchens with Sirius, had asked Madam Pomfrey to show him how to change Remus' bandages, and together with Peter had managed to take three times as many notes in Charms class as Lily Evans.

It wasn't enough, but it was all James could think to offer.

"What are you showing us?" Sirius asked eagerly, loping along at Remus' side.

Remus pressed his lips together and shook his head. "You'll see."

Frowning, James followed Remus to the passage behind Gregory the Smarmy. They walked in silence and emerged in the quad a few minutes later. The sun hung low in the sky, but sunset was still a few hours off.

"Remus?" James asked, confused, as Remus continued on. There had been no sign of Greyback since the full moon, but the Professors had not yet lifted the ban on unsupervised treks out-of-doors. Frankly, James was surprised Remus was willing to risk it.

But Remus only smiled and gestured for his friends to follow him. It didn't take long for their destination to become obvious.

"The Whomping Willow?" Peter asked. "You're going to show us the Shrieking Shack?"

"Shh." Remus stiffly climbed the hill on which the Willow stood; his wounds had not yet healed, but he refused to go to Madam Pomfrey for more pain potions. "Wait till we're in."

Remus stopped just outside the Willow's reach, bent down, and grabbed a long, twisted branch. He winced as he hefted the branch but waved off Sirius' offer to help. To James' surprise, the Willow didn't react to the branch entering its personal space – perhaps it didn't recognize it as foreign? – and Remus was able to prod a knot at the base of the trunk.

At once, the Willow froze. The leaves fluttered feebly in a breeze sweeping up from the lake, but the branches remained utterly still, as though the tree had been petrified.

"Hurry," said Remus, dropping his branch. He darted forward and disappeared into a hole among the roots. Exchanging bewildered glances with Sirius and Peter, James followed suit, dropping through the hole into a long, low tunnel twisting away into darkness.

Once Peter and Sirius had dropped down beside James, Remus gestured them on.

"Watch your head," he said, ducking under a gnarled root that jutted out from the ceiling. "It's a tight fit."

James didn't mind the low ceiling or the dirt gathering in his hair and on his robes. He was, however, curious about Remus' impromptu field trip. Picking his way carefully over the uneven ground, James came up behind Remus and asked, "Are we really going to the Shrieking Shack?"

"Yes." Remus paused, shooting a short, nervous glance over his shoulder. "I know you, James – and you, Sirius," he added a bit more loudly to catch the others' attention. "You don't know when to leave well enough alone. You knew where I transform, and you knew that the Willow was how I got in. Sooner or later, you were bound to work it all out."

"So you reckoned you'd save us the trouble?" Sirius asked cheerfully. "Thanks, mate!"

Remus frowned. "Don't. I'd rather you never saw this, but showing you now is better than having you lot wander in during a full moon."

"We wouldn't…" James trailed off as Remus scoffed. "Alright, maybe we would. Curiosity isn't a sin."

"With you, James, it ought to be." Chuckling, Remus shook his head. "All the same, I've decided to appease your _curiosity_ now, so you can stay up in the castle while I'm transforming, _thank you very much_."

James sighed. "If we _must_."

They continued on for some time in silence, until Sirius voiced a question they'd all been dying to ask— "You weren't really going to run off with Greyback, Remus, were you?"

"I…" Remus paused, his steps slowing. "No. Not at first."

"Dumbledore said you were thinking about it," Peter said timidly.

Remus flinched as though Peter had hit him. "I was. I didn't want you to get hurt. Even when Professor Dumbledore put up the protective wards at your houses, I was afraid that it wouldn't be enough. There… There were wards around my house, too, eight years ago, and that didn't stop me getting bit."

James felt his breath hitch in his throat, and he laid a hand on Remus' shoulder.

Jumping at the touch, Remus came to a complete stop and turned toward his friends. Sirius muttered a spell to give them light, revealing the weary expression on Remus' face.

"I used to be a lot like you," said Remus, offering a weak smile. "I liked sneaking around the house at night when my parents thought I was asleep. I liked exploring outside – especially around the cabin in Ravenshall, where I live now. We used to only go there on holiday, so it was all very new and exciting for me.

"That's all I thought it was, you know, a holiday." Remus turned around abruptly and started walking, as though he found it too hard to speak about all this without doing something to distract himself from the memories. "It was Dumbledore who told me the whole story, back in November, after I got the first letter from Greyback. He told me the anti-werewolf legislation my dad had been working on had made Greyback mad, so he threatened to bite me and my mum. That was why we went to Ravenshall with a couple of Aurors and the best wards the Ministry could cast.

"But I didn't know any of that back then."

Remus lapsed into silence for a time, and James hesitated to say anything. He suspected this was the sort of thing Remus wouldn't like to be pressed about, and he respected his friend enough to give him time to form the words.

"I just wanted to go outside." Remus' voice was laced with guilt, and he ducked his head. "I suppose it's the same now, when I go looking for secret passages with you lot. It was… frustrating, being stuck inside with a whole forest waiting to be explored. So I convinced my mum to let me play in the yard – I don't remember how, but I know she gave in eventually. And then I— it was stupid, of course. I was just a kid, and I didn't really _think_, you know?"

Part of James was tempted to point out that Remus was _still_ a kid, but he stopped himself. After everything Remus had gone through with his lycanthropy… James wondered if he really _was_.

Another silence filled the tunnel.

"The wards protected me from Greyback, but not from myself. I was afraid it would be the same with you." Remus rubbed his shoulder, the one that bore the most severe injury from the recent transformation. "So, yes, I did consider going with Greyback to protect you. I argued with Professor McGonagall about it at some length, in fact. She eventually convinced me not to."

"Thank Merlin," Sirius muttered from the back of the group.

A smile found its way onto Remus' face.

James smiled, too, but it soon faded. "What about Thursday, then? When you heard us talking about you, did you change your mind?" What he really wanted to ask was, _Did we make you think Greyback was your best option?_ but he couldn't quite manage it.

"No." Remus shook his head emphatically. "I thought I would have to leave Hogwarts, of course, but not with Greyback. I wasn't afraid of Greyback attacking you anymore, so I figured I'd just go home to my mum and have her teach me magic herself. That was what we'd planned, you know. Before Professor Dumbledore told me I could come to Hogwarts."

"But you ran off," Sirius said. "And you were with Greyback when we found you."

Remus nodded. "I was scared when I realized you knew," he admitted. "All I wanted was to get to the Hogsmeade house so you couldn't…" Remus didn't finish this thought. "I guess I thought it would be easier to deal with everything in the morning. Or maybe I wasn't really thinking at all. I just wanted to get away. Only I… I didn't go to the Willow straight away. Once I was outside, I just sort of… sat there for a bit, over by the greenhouses. I don't know how long. It just seemed so overwhelming that I couldn't make myself move. Like if I refused to move, I could make it so you'd never found out.

"And then, when I finally got up to the Willow, Greyback found me. He said he'd seen the three of you come out of the castle, and he told me it would be easy for him to take you into the forest." Remus shuddered. "He promised not to go after you if I went with him, so… I did. There wasn't anything else I could do, not with the transformation less than an hour away and you three out on the grounds. Greyback would have killed you, or worse, and…" He paused. "Well, I didn't reckon there was any reason for me to stay anyhow."

"But you know better now," said Peter earnestly. "Right?"

"Yeah." Remus turned to smile at them. "Thank you."

"For what?" asked James. "We're your friends, Remus. You don't need to thank us for that."

For a moment, James thought Remus was going to argue, but the boy only shook his head. "Maybe not. It's just… not what I'm used to. Most people who know what I am are happy to see me go."

"_What_ you are?" Sirius piped up grumpily. "You mean a brilliant wizard, a great friend, and an all-around nice bloke?"

Remus flushed. "Er… no…"

"You _are_."

"Maybe—"

"_Definitely_."

Remus rolled his eyes. "I _meant_ that I'm a werewolf."

"I know what you _meant_," said Sirius, sounding exasperated. "I just don't see why that's got to define you. You're top of our year, Remus, and— _hold on_." Sirius stopped short, crossed his arms, and glared at Remus, who looked taken aback by the harsh tone. "How come you're not in the Slug Club?"

Remus' eyes widened, and he hastily turned his back on them. "What are you talking about?"

James clenched his fists. "Slughorn knows you're a werewolf, doesn't he?"

"It doesn't matter," Remus said quickly, then bit his lip.

"So it's true, then." Sirius spat on the ground. "He didn't invite you to his stupid little club because you're a werewolf. Is that it?"

Gasping, Peter glanced between the irate Sirius and the uncomfortable Remus. "But… That's not fair!"

"No, Peter," said James. "It isn't." He kicked the wall of the tunnel, ignoring the ache it caused in his foot. "I _told_ him you deserved to be there. I can't _believe _he—"

"Drop it, James." Remus' voice was quiet, but hard, and James fell silent at once. "Professor Slughorn hasn't done anything wrong."

"Course not," muttered Sirius. "If the Ministry's anything to go by, you can get away with just about anything when it comes to werewolves."

Remus stiffened. "It's not his fault. His club is for people with promising futures. I… I haven't got one."

Temper flaring, James reached out to spin Remus around. "What are you talking about, Remus? You could do _anything_! Blimey, if _you_ can't do something great after Hogwarts, then _none_ of us can!"

"In another life, maybe," Remus snapped, pulling away from James' grasp. "I don't know what I'll do after Hogwarts. I… To be honest. I haven't given it much thought. But it won't be anything worth Slughorn's attention, that's for certain. The Ministry will never hire me, nor will most wizarding businesses. Even if I start my own business – which would be a challenge in its own right, with how I get around the full moon – no one's likely to buy anything from a werewolf."

"And that gives Slughorn the right to treat you like shite?" Sirius demanded.

Remus' eyes flashed, but he kept his voice level as he said, "Yes."

"Bollocks," said James. "It's not fair, Remus. I don't care if it's what you're used to; it's – not – _fair._"

With a withering glare, Remus picked up the pace. "We're here," he ground out.

This was not, strictly speaking, true. James could make out a trapdoor in the ceiling at the end of the tunnel, but it took them another full minute to get there. Halfway, Sirius opened his mouth to say something, but James, seeing the hard set of Remus' jaw, shook his head and Sirius fell into sullen silence.

The bitterness melted away as Remus stepped up underneath the trapdoor. He stood there for a moment, tension in the lines of his body, staring at the trapdoor with something akin to fear on his face. Slowly, he reached up to grasp the handle and pushed the door up and into the dark space beyond.

Taking a deep breath, Remus stepped aside and gestured his friends forward.

James went first, nervously, and scrambled up into a sitting room that he had no trouble believing housed a werewolf on the full moon. The scant furniture lay scattered about in varied states of bedlam – the sofa bore only a few long gouges, but beside it lay a heap of splintered wood James guessed had been a tea table. The windows were boarded up and hung with shredded curtains, so very little light filtered in. Only a few reddish shafts crept across the space like trails of blood.

Shivering, James drifted across the room to explore the rest of the house, only dimly aware of his friends' presence at his side. Sirius cursed under his breath at the destruction they found in the back bedroom, where the light of his wand revealed crimson stains on the bedclothes. Peter, white-faced and silent, stuck close to James' side and made no comments on what he saw.

When they had explored the house, they returned to the sitting room to find Remus curled up on the sofa, staring at a set of parallel slashes on the opposite wall.

He looked up as his friends approached and smiled thinly. "Now you know," he whispered.

James had no words. He felt ill and shaky and angry and so, _so_ guilty all at once, and he couldn't begin to put that mess into words. It wasn't the destruction that shook him, precisely; it wasn't the upended writing desk upstairs or the broken banister or the table whose legs had been gnawed off. Rather, it was the _feel_ of the place. The loneliness, the gloom, the faint stench of blood… It was a miserable place with company in the fading light of day with no looming transformation to worry about. How much worse would it be for Remus, alone, in the dark hours leading up to the change?

No, there were no words that could make this alright, so James didn't bother speaking. He merely crossed to the sofa, sat down beside his friend, and pulled him into an embrace, keenly aware when, a moment later, Peter and Sirius joined them. Sirius' wand had gone dark, but James had his eyes screwed shut anyway. He didn't need to look to know than none of them had dry eyes. _It's better this way_, he reasoned as Remus buried his face in James' shoulder and began to shake with silent sobs. Better not to have to admit to their weakness, or to worry about what the others would think. Better not to bother with awkward words or furtive glances or anything of the sort. Better to simply be there, as friends, and feel each other's presence.

By the time they made their silent way back to Hogwarts, it was full dark.


	28. Marauders

**Chapter 28: Marauders**

"You don't have to do this," said Remus nervously.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Of course we don't _have_ to. We _want_ to."

"Sirius…"

"Relax, Moony." James flashed a reassuring grin as he tucked a few more dungbombs into his pocket. "It'll be brilliant."

Sighing, Remus set his Potions book aside to glower at his friends. Exams were the week after next, and Remus was deep in the throes of revision. Peter, who had spent most of the last week holed up with Remus in the library or a quiet corner of the common room, ducked behind his Charms book to hide his grin.

"You could just _not go_."

Sirius reeled back, clutching his chest as though he'd just been hit by a Heart-Stopping Hex. "Skive _off_?" he gasped. "Moony, are you _ill_? Have you been _Imperiused_?"

"No," said Remus with a lopsided grin. "I've just finally gone round the twist from spending too much time with the two of you."

James laughed. "Good to know."

"But honestly," said Sirius, leaning against the post of Remus' bed. "Back in September, you practically dragged us down to Slughorn's office, and now you're telling us not to go?"

"Considering the prank you're going to pull?" Remus raised his eyebrow. "Yes."

"We've got a message to send," James said. "We don't associate with bigots."

At the uncomfortable look on Remus' face, Sirius added, "We won't say anything about you, Moony. Or anything that anyone could link back to you. He'll know why we're doing it."

"If he already knows, then you don't have to do it."

"Yes, Moony, we do." James shoved his hands into his overflowing pockets. "There's only one reason he never invited you, and it's not right. We can't let him get away with it."

Remus groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"Besides," said Sirius devilishly. "Half the Slug Club's in Slytherin. How can we pass up the opportunity to wish Malfoy and his lot a happy summer?"

Laughing, Remus lobbed a rubber halfheartedly at Sirius, who ducked out of the way. "Even so, your time is much better spent revising— have you even started yet?"

"Nope." Sirius grinned. "We'll ace all our exams anyhow. What's the point revising?"

Remus' grin faltered, and Peter looked up suddenly from his book. "Your idea of acing an exam is two points above failing," Peter said wryly. "By that definition, Remus could've aced all his exams in October."

James laughed. "Fair point."

Blushing, Remus fiddled with his notes, but he flashed Peter a small, shy smile.

"Maybe we'd get better grades if we tried harder," Sirius admitted with a shrug, "but what's the point? Until our OWLs, we only _need_ two points above passing. And Remus and Evans are always going to be top of our year, anyhow."

"We're only getting out of your hair," said James cheerily. "You two care more about classes than we do, and we'd only distract you, so it's better for all of us if we leave."

"And we're both very grateful for your kind consideration, James," Remus said, rolling his eyes. He looked up and frowned. "I'm not going to talk you out of this, am I?"

Sirius beamed. "Not a chance."

Sighing, Remus waved them away. "Then have fun. Don't kill Snape."

-.-.-

They had agreed that it would be best to wait until the party was in full swing. It wouldn't do to strike while half the Slug Club was still arriving. And James could tell the moment he and Sirius trudged through the door that Slughorn was expecting something from them. To begin then would have been far too predictable and not at all as funny as a prank this important ought to be. So they waited.

The original plan called for a full hour of biding their time, playing the role of slightly-disruptive, but not-quite-havoc-wreaking, students. They would complain and joke and pull a few minor tricks to appease Slughorn's suspicions and then, just when he began to relax and believe he would get off with nothing worse than Gryffindor banners suddenly appearing on his office walls… all hell would break loose.

That was the plan. The reality was somewhat different.

"Let's just do it now," Sirius hissed as he filled his goblet for the fifth time in twenty minutes. "Please, James, we don't have to suffer this for another half hour!"

James frowned, glancing around at the other students. The fifth and seventh years, some of whom had arrived a few minutes late, claiming they'd lost track of time as they prepared for their exams, seemed to all be there at last, and the usual inane chatter filled the room. James had forgotten how dull these gatherings were.

His eyes found the handful of members that really mattered. First, Severus Snape, who stood at Lily Evans' side among a group of Ravenclaws. Lily and the Ravenclaws were engaged in some sort of debate, leaving Snape standing awkwardly just outside their circle, his face scrunched into a perpetual grimace. Lucius Malfoy headed up a cluster of Slytherins in the center of the room, looking for all the world like a king at court. And Slughorn, as usual, wound his way among the students, laughing jovially and clapping many a student on the shoulder. He didn't spare James and Sirius a glance and seemed to have pushed his wariness aside, at least for now.

"Alright," said James. "Anything to get out of here sooner."

"Sneaking off without me are you?" came the voice of Marlene McKinnon. Shoving a whole roll into her mouth, Marlene grinned and muttered what James supposed was an insult, though he couldn't quite make it out.

Sirius shrugged diffidently as he reached into his pocket. "You're welcome to leave with us, McKinnon. In fact, I'd recommend you do." He pulled a packet of quick-launch fireworks from his pocket. "I've already set up Part Two, James."

"One second," said James, setting the last of his dungbombs under the rim of the pastry platter. "Alright, I'm finished, too." He fished out his own fireworks and drew his wand. "On three?"

Grinning, Sirius shook back his sleeve and pointed his wand at the fireworks. "One."

"Two," said James.

"THREE!" they bellowed in unison. "_Incendio!_"

Several dozen eyes turned toward the shout – just in time to see an explosion of multicolored light that sent sparks whizzing around the room. The first firework crashed against the ceiling, leaving a starburst of vivid red paint. The next fell between Snape's feet, turning the bottom of his robes yellow.

The students began to scream (or laugh, in Marlene's case) and run for cover – tables, chairs, even other students – in a futile attempt to avoid turning colors. About half the fireworks had been charmed to hone in on Slughorn, Malfoy, and Snape, leaving all three – and anyone unfortunate enough to be standing near them, including Lily – looking like a rainbow had sicked up on them. The rest of the fireworks flew at random, dyeing walls and furniture and students indiscriminately.

James and Sirius stood calmly in the midst of it all, laughing whenever a stray firework exploded close enough to shower them with color-changing sparks. After a few deafening moments, the fireworks died down, giving the students a chance to escape.

To James' delight, very few took advantage of this lull in the excitement; all of the Slytherins stayed put. Snape, Malfoy, and Lily fixed the pair with glares that promised severe pain. James and Sirius grinned back at them, then turned to Slughorn, who was trying to change his robes back to their usual black color, with no success.

"Don't bother, _Professor_," Sirius said, a bit of a sneer escaping on the last word. "The charm will wear off in a day or so. You can't remove it before then."

Lily, whose hair looked remarkably like a fire with the new splashes of red and orange, began to splutter. "A _day_?" she demanded.

James grinned. "It's not _permanent_. Don't be such a girl."

"James," Slughorn said sternly before Lily could retort. "Sirius. What is this all about?"

"You know exactly what it's about," said Sirius, grinning wickedly. "We're done with you and your stupid club." He gestured out the door, to the Potions Corridor, where a few special fireworks had painted a message in a shade of orange that hurt James' eyes and would catch the attention of every student who passed that way.

**To those who weren't invited:**

**Slughorn's a smelly git.  
You aren't missing anything.**

—**J.P. & S.B.  
Former Slug Club Members**

Behind him, James heard Marlene stifle her giggles. No one else made a sound. Slughorn's face had gone still, his mouth set into a thin line. It was nothing to McGonagall's scowl, of course, but it was proof that the message had hit home: _Don't mess with our friends._

Sirius laced his hands behind his head. "You ought to be able to get that down before the holidays are over."

"Maybe," said James, smirking. "But look on the bright side! You won't have to deal with us again – except, you know, in class and such."

"And detention," said Slughorn, his voice devoid of its usual cheer. "Tomorrow. Eight o'clock."

James raised a hand in salute. "Wouldn't dream of missing it. Though I do wonder…" He grinned at Sirius. "Think we ought to _really_ earn that detention?"

"I think we'd be mad not to," said Sirius, who then turned to Marlene. "Get ready to run. _Exordio!_"

At once, the two-dozen dungbombs they'd hidden throughout the room detonated, releasing copious amounts of a thick, noxious cloud. James, Sirius, and Marlene made it through the door before the odor reached them, but they caught the first whiffs of dung-smell that seeped out into the corridor. Laughing, James and Sirius bid Marlene farewell and took off running, angry shouts and loud coughs chasing them up the stairs.

They didn't stop running, or laughing, until they tumbled through the dormitory door and onto Remus' bed. Neither he nor Peter appeared to have moved in the last half hour, and both blinked several times at James' and Sirius' new, colorful attire before Remus managed to ask, "Alright, you two?"

"Better!" Sirius grinned. "We are now _officially_ no longer a part of the Slug Club."

"And you can read our resignation in the Potions Corridor tomorrow," James said.

Peter's eyes widened. "In the corridor?"

"Rainbow Rockets," Sirius explained. "Found them in Zonko's. And we charmed the wall to absorb the color, so it ought to last longer."

Remus shook his head, trying valiantly not to grin. "You're impossible."

"Brilliant, you mean." James grinned. "I'll bet the whole school's talking about it by breakfast."

"At this rate, you'll be more infamous than the Prewetts," Remus said, returning to his homework.

James only smiled. "That's the plan, Moony. That's the plan."

-.-.-

"So Moony," said Sirius on Monday, the start of the last week of classes.

Remus looked up warily from his Potions book, which had been his constant companion for the last two days. "Yes?"

"What electives are you taking next year?"

"Why?"

Sirius tried – and failed, in James' opinion – to look offended. "What, can't a bloke take an interest in his friend's life?"

"When that bloke is you?" Remus asked, raising an eyebrow. "And you're taking an interest in school?"

Dropping the indignant act, Sirius grinned. "Fine. I just wanted to know what classes I should take next year."

"Whichever ones you're interested in."

"And how'm I supposed to copy your answers if you aren't in the class?"

Remus rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Remus!" James said. "We just want to spend more time with you!"

The look Remus gave James was one of pure exasperation. He turned back to Sirius and said, "I thought you'd already decided to take Muggle Studies."

"I have," said Sirius. "But I don't know what else to take."

"Divination!" said James. "It's supposed to be the easiest class at Hogwarts."

Peter chuckled, pushing aside his Transfigurations notes. "Sounds good to me."

"It's only easy because it's a load of nonsense," said Remus with a scowl. "I don't even know why it's taught here. All the books I've read say that if you aren't born a Seer, you can't possibly learn anything."

"Well, do you have to be a Seer to take the class?" asked James, grinning.

"No," said Remus. "That's the problem. A real Seer would get far more out of a private tutor than a class full of people who don't know what they're doing."

But James only shook his head. "Yeah, sure. But if you don't have to be a Seer to take the class, then the professor can't mark you down for getting a wrong answer, which means you just have to show up and do as you're told!"

From the lines that appeared between Remus' brows, he didn't find the notion as desirable as James. Peter, on the other hand, was grinning.

James turned to Sirius. "You in?"

"No way," said Sirius, curling his lips. "Sounds boring – sitting in a tower for an hour trying to see stuff you _know_ you'll never see? I've heard Madame Syrah doesn't even talk much, just walks around and watches you. You won't even be able to pass notes while you're there."

"Is that a challenge?"

Sirius grinned. "Sure. You and Peter go a whole lesson without once staring at your crystal ball or reading your tea leaves or whatever – and _without _getting caught – and I'll buy you both whatever you want from Zonko's. But if you don't manage it by the end of the year, you've got to buy me whatever _I_ want."

"Deal!" said James, grinning. "Best start saving up now."

"Well see, Potter."

Remus sighed and turned back to his Potions book.

"Oi!" Sirius protested. "We haven't finished. What classes are you taking? Obviously not Divination."

"No, not Divination," said Remus distractedly.

"Muggle Studies?"

"Not that either."

"Then what?"

"Arithmancy, for one."

James scowled. "Isn't that the one that's like maths, but harder?"

"That's the one," said Remus. "I take it you're not interested."

James, Sirius, and Peter exchanged looks of disgust and shook their heads.

"What else?" Peter asked. "You need at least two."

Remus sighed. "Ancient Runes – but as it requires a lot of reading and essays nearly every week, I doubt any of you would like it. And Care of Magical Creatures."

Sirius perked up. "That sounds fun."

"_I_ thought so, though Runes is more practical."

"Fat chance," muttered James. "Magical creatures are everywhere. When are you going to run into runes that need translating?"

"Besides," Sirius added, "why sit in a room with a book for an hour when you can be outside wrangling dragons?"

Remus snorted. "We won't be working with _dragons_ in Care of Magical Creatures. Grindylows and bowtruckles are far more likely to come up."

"Beats books and runes."

Shrugging, Remus said nothing.

James paused, considering, then nodded. "Well, I'm in. Sirius?"

"Definitely."

"Peter?"

"Sure."

"Brilliant!" James beamed. "That makes one class we'll all four have together."

Remus shot him a bemused look. "We'll still have all our usual classes together, James."

"One more, then," James amended. "And I'll have Divination with Peter. I feel sorry for you two, though, having classes all alone. Poor sods."

"Sounds like a dream come true," Remus muttered, hiding a grin behind his book. "Two whole classes where I don't have to listen to you lot complaining about how bored you are, or planning pranks, or proposing ridiculous group names."

Sirius crossed his arms with a huff. "I thought you liked the idea of having a name."

"I do. Your ideas are just terrible."

"Terrible, are they?" Sirius stuck out his tongue and reached into his pocket. "Lucky for you I've got a load of new ones. See how terrible these are!"

"Please don't," Remus grumbled, but Sirius ignored him and began to rattle of a list of names.

"The Only Thing That Bothers Filch More than Peeves. Providers of Dumbledore's Daily Amusements. The Dark Path of Pranksterdom. Siremeseter."

"That last one wasn't even a word!" Remus protested.

"Course not! It was all our names, all mashed together."

Groaning, Remus dropped his head onto the table with a _thud_.

"Sirius, mate?" said James gently, pulling the list out of Sirius' hands. "Those are the worst names you've ever come up with."

"And that's saying a lot," Remus mumbled into the table.

With a huff, Sirius slouched in his seat. "Excuse me for running out of ideas. I don't hear any of you helping."

Remus picked his head up off the table and gave Sirius an encouraging smile. "We'll come up with something, Sirius. Only… don't over-think it. And don't make it such a mouthful, alright? It would take too long to say 'The Only Thing More Bothersome Than Peeves' or whatever it was."

"Then what would you suggest?"

For a long moment, Remus was quiet – thinking, James assumed, but it wasn't long before he noticed the color rising in the other boy's cheeks.

"You've got an idea, haven't you?" James asked, grinning.

Remus glanced up guiltily, and shook his head. "It's probably rubbish."

"Worse than these?" James asked dubiously, waving Sirius' list of names in the air. Off to the side, Sirius made a rude gesture in James' direction, but he, too, eyed Remus with interest.

Biting his lip, Remus fiddled with a quill and avoided their gazes. "I've been thinking is all. That our name ought to sum up who we are and what we do."

"Of course," said Sirius, nodding. "And?"

"Well," Remus said, "_we are_ a lot of things. We're friends, and we're Gryffindors, and we're wizards – but none of those things really sets us apart from the rest of the school."

James grinned. "Sure. Don't see Evans pulling pranks or finding secret passages, do you?"

"So we're the Pranksters?" Sirius asked, scratching his nose. "A little mundane, but it's on the right track."

"Not the Pranksters, no," said Remus.

Raising an eyebrow, Sirius asked, "What, then? Thinking about the secret passages bit? So we'd be the Cartama-whatsits? Those map-maker blokes."

"Cartographers?" Remus grinned, but shook his head. "Too scholarly for you two loafers, if you ask me. I was thinking… well, what do we do? We rove about in the dead of night, going where we will, breaking rules, causing mayhem—"

"Dueling Slytherins," Sirius added.

"Making mischief," said James.

"Exploring the castle," Peter said.

"—marauding," Remus said with a note of finality. He smiled nervously at his friends. "We could be the Marauders."

-.-.-

Sirius was so thrilled to finally have a name – "It's bloody _perfect_, Moony! You're a genius!" – that he dragged them all away from their revisions (and distractions) to pull the first official Marauder prank. With liberal application of _Glisseo_, every staircase they could find was soon converted into chutes that were impossible to climb. The only way back to the Gryffindor common room took them in a circuitous route up secret passages, along corridors echoing with yelps of surprise and fear, down slides to yet more passages, and finally to the tunnel by the library that let out near the Fat Lady's portrait.

Gryffindor Tower was nearly empty when they arrived (and remained so for over an hour while the professors put the stairs back to normal). Nevertheless, the four boys charged up the stairs to their dormitory, laughing loud enough to draw some angry shouts from the fifth and seventh year dorms. OWLs and NEWTs had started that day, and tempers were running high.

But James couldn't be bothered by angry shouts. He and his friends piled onto James' bed, drew the curtains, cast their usual regimen of privacy charms, and got down to business— the first Marauders' Council.

Not much needed to be said, really, but they discussed it all anyway: They made official Marauder's Vows to always be friends, to always listen to each other, to keep each other's secrets and defend each other's honor, and to never, _ever_ jump off the Astronomy Tower. They agreed to find a way to make a Marauder's Map, even though Remus swore it couldn't be done without traipsing all over the castle to map everything the muggle way. They promised to write over the summer, whenever they could, and to stay over at Peter's house in the last weeks of August, after the full moon.

Throughout it all, they grinned madly, laughing at odd times and getting into fierce debates over which Vows they should do first and how often they should write and whether they ought to stay over with Peter for more than two weeks.

When at last they called their Council to a close to head down for dinner, James couldn't help but feel that they had all grown closer. It made no sense, of course. The conversation had scarcely been different than any other they'd held that year, and they'd discussed nothing of any real import, but it felt as though something in their friendship had solidified.

Sirius, of course, was never satisfied.

"What do you say we come up with a motto? 'Prank On,' or some such. We could end every Council with it!"

Remus groaned, Peter laughed, and James grinned a devious grin. "Another challenge, Sirius. To find a motto Moony will actually say."

"Good luck with that," said Remus, but he, too, was smiling. "Do remember to owl me all your ideas over the holidays."

Raising his eyebrows, Sirius dug his elbow into Remus' ribs. "Why, so you can marvel at my wit?"

"No," said Remus, smirking, "so the distance doesn't make me forget what gits you all are."

Laughing, Sirius shoved Remus through the doors of the Great Hall.

-.-.-

"I'm leaving tomorrow," said Remus, eyes never straying from the book in his lap.

The four boys were down by the lake under their favorite beech tree – the professors had finally lifted the restrictions at the end of exam week, claiming that the as-yet-unnamed criminal who had attacked Hogsmeade nearly two months prior had been sighted by the Channel and so posed no further threat to the students of Hogwarts.

This news had, unfortunately, come too late to salvage the Quidditch Cup, but much of James' time since his last exam had been spent on the Quidditch pitch playing pick-up games. When not in the air, James and his friends found no shortage of pranks to be pulled, passages to be explored, and card games to be improved upon with their own particular brand of Marauder humor.

But now, two days before the end of term and with the full moon approaching, Remus had grown pale and lethargic and wanted to do nothing more than read as many books as possible before the holidays began.

"You're spending the…" Sirius caught himself and tried again. "You're going home?"

"Well, _actually_, I'm going on holiday with my mother." A wry tone laced his words, but Remus' face remained bland as he flipped a page. "France, apparently."

"Ah." James smiled grimly. "At least she isn't sick again."

Remus chuckled. "Oh, yes. The Healers are very optimistic about her outlook. Sounds as though her illness is gone for good."

They shared a smile, and then Remus glanced around. Seeing no one, he went on in a low voice.

"Professor McGonagall and I reckon it's safer for me to spend this month at home. Don't want to risk running into anyone on the way back from the Shack – people will be up and about earlier than usual with the Hogwarts Express leaving at nine the day after the… you know. And anyway, I won't be up for any sort of travel until Sunday, at the earliest." With a grim smile, Remus went back to reading.

After a moment, James frowned. "Hey, Moony?"

"Mm?"

"What do you do at home for the you-know-what?"

Remus looked up, amber eyes suddenly hard. "What do you mean?"

James glanced at Sirius, who ran a hand through his hair. "You know… Do you have something like the Shack, or…?"

"Something like that." Remus stared out over the lake, an odd expression on his face.

By now, Peter had looked up from the cauldron cake wrapper on which he'd been doodling, and he joined the others in frowning at Remus. "Is something wrong?" Peter asked slowly.

"No."

"Something you want to talk about?" James asked.

Remus shook his head.

Sighing, James exchanged frustrated glances with Sirius and Peter, but they didn't press the issue. Over the past month, James had come to realize that Remus had eight years' worth of secrets stored up, and he'd built walls to protect those secrets from prying eyes. To protect _himself_ from the rest of the world. Since finding out the secret behind Remus' monthly disappearances, James and the others had made great strides toward helping Remus open up, but it seemed it would be a long time before the walls were totally destroyed.

In the mean time, James had to constantly remind himself not to press Remus too hard. James' natural inclination was to pester his friend until everything was out in the open so Remus would see he didn't have to deal with everything alone. The few times he'd tried to pry, however, Remus had shut down altogether, a veiled fear in his eyes as he regarded James with the kind of suspicion he'd shown that night in the Forbidden Forest.

James might be ready to hear Remus' secrets, but Remus obviously wasn't ready to share them and, as frustrating as that was, James had to learn to be patient. It was maddening.

Eventually, the tension drained out of Remus' shoulders. Sighing, he stuck a bit of parchment in his book to mark his place, then shut it and slid it into his bag. He hesitated, glanced at his friends, and pulled out a square package wrapped in parchment and tied with string.

"What's that?" Sirius asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"It's a present." Remus rubbed his hand over the parchment. "To say thank you. I know it's not enough—"

James rolled his eyes. "How many times have we got to say it, Moony?"

"You don't have to thank us," Sirius finished.

Remus remained adamant. "I wanted to." When none of the others made a move to take the package, he rolled his eyes. "Fine. Here, James." He thrust the package at James, who took it gingerly but did not unwrap it. "Christmas, Part Two."

James peered at Remus over the rims of his glasses.

"I didn't give you nearly enough, compared to that encyclopedia. And since you won't take back your gifts, you've no right to tell me not to give you this."

Too shocked, at first, to say anything, James stared at Remus' stubborn scowl. Then, laughing, he shrugged. "Oh, alright, then. As long as you don't feel you owe us for sticking by you."

Remus only smiled, gesturing toward the present.

Grinning, James reached for the string. Sirius and Peter, evidently forgetting their reservations, gathered around as James peeled back the wrappings revealing a pair of unadorned, square mirrors. Frowning, James turned them each over, looking for a note of explanation. Finding none, he glanced up at Remus, who was playing with the laces of his shoes.

"Er—thanks… What are they?"

"Two-way mirrors," said Remus, twisting the laces into a knotted mess. "I found the spell in the library a few days ago. I wanted to make three – one for each of you – but the spell only works in pairs, so I figured James and Sirius could each take one for the summer, and then you could pass them around when terms starts in September."

"Oh." James turned the mirrors over a few times, trying to look grateful.

Sirius, on the other hand, didn't bother with pretenses. "But what _are_ they? What do they do?"

A grin found its way onto Remus' face, and he held out a hand. "Give me one of them, and I'll show you." James passed a mirror to Remus, who held it in his hands, cleared his throat, and said, "James Potter."

The mirror James still held grew suddenly warm, and James looked down in surprise. Remus' face gazed back at him.

"What the—? Blimey, Remus!" James was startled to hear an echo of his own voice from Remus' mirror.

Wide-eyed, Sirius snatched the mirror from James' hands. "This is…" He grinned at the Remus in the mirror, and then up at the Remus sitting across from him. "This is amazing, Moony!"

"I felt bad about Andromeda's parchment getting ruined," Remus explained, smiling shyly. "So I wanted to make sure you had a way to talk to us this summer, aside from letters to Peter that have to go through your parents."

Laughing, Sirius lurched forward to fling his arms around Remus' neck. The werewolf gave a start of surprise, but by the time he recovered, Sirius had already pulled back. He settled into a crouch and peered at the mirror, eyes gleaming with anticipation. "This'll be _loads_ faster than writing everything! Plus, I'll get to hear something other than Mum's screeching and Kreacher grumbling about what a horrid son I am."

"You'll have to keep it close," said Remus. "In your pocket or bag, say. If you don't have it on you when James says your name, it'll stay blank. That way your parents won't accidentally find out about it." He shook his sleeve down over his hand and wiped the surface of the mirror. "Just wipe it with any bit of cloth to make it blank again." Smiling, Remus handed the mirror back to James, who tucked it into his pocket.

"Thanks, Remus," he said earnestly.

Remus blushed. "Don't mention it."

"Really," said Peter. "That's brilliant!"

"And just think of what it'll do for our pranks!" James added gleefully. "Easier to talk through a mirror than find somewhere to write."

Sirius only grinned and, with a funny little dance, pocketed his mirror. "This summer's going to be _great_."

-.-.-

The last night of term was quiet with Remus gone – even more so when James caught a glimpse of the full moon through the window. Peter and Sirius quickly noticed James' somber mood, and the three of them stayed up well into the night, thinking of Remus and hoping he would be alright.

A thought had been growing in the back of James' mind over the past month, but he'd held back from voicing it aloud with Remus around. In fact, he didn't have a chance to bring it up – and the will to finally admit the mad plan – until halfway through the train ride to London. But after stuffing themselves with sweets and pastries from the food trolley, the three boys had sunk into a comfortable silence, and James knew he could put it off no longer.

"We need to help Remus."

Sirius nodded absently, sorting through a packet of Every-Flavor Beans for the ones that didn't look too dangerous. "Of course. We've already convinced McGonagall to let us visit him after his furry little problem."

Rolling his eyes at Sirius' name for Remus' transformations, James sighed. "And that's great and all, but I was thinking we should do something more. Something… bigger."

"Like what?" asked Peter, who was trying to get Luftwing to eat what the three boys were certain was a worm-flavored bean. "Get Madam Pomfrey to teach us healing magic?"

"We'd never be able to heal as well as Pomfrey," Sirius argued, taking his unwanted beans and dropping them over Luftwing's head. The owl hooted indignantly and nipped at Peter's fingers.

Peter drew back sharply, sucking on his bleeding finger, and mutter, "Stupid bird."

James chuckled and pulled his owl away from his friends. "Don't worry, boy. I'll get you better treats when we get home."

Peter rubbed his finger absently as he watched James. "Did you have something in mind?"

"Yeah," said James slowly. "I figured there's not much we can do _after_ the transformations, but if we could help him _during_…"

Frowning, Sirius tossed a handful of beans into his mouth. "During? Are you insane? What can we do while Remus is…?" He gave his friends a pointed look.

"Keep him company." James held up his hands before the others could protest. "Do you remember what Dumbledore said when we told him McGonagall had gone after Remus?"

"That Greyback was more dangerous than Remus could ever be?" Peter asked.

"No," said Sirius, a grin stretching across his face. "That werewolves won't attack animals like they do humans."

James nodded. "And that animagi can't be infected with lycanthropy."

"Wicked," muttered Sirius.

Peter looked considerably less certain about the idea. "Become animagi? There's no way we could manage it! You've got to be of age, haven't you?"

Waving his hand, James kicked his feet up on the bench opposite. "So we don't tell anyone we're doing it. Not like we'd tell them _why_ anyhow."

"But that's _illegal_," Peter protested. "Not to mention dangerous!"

Sirius snorted. "So's living with a werewolf, according to the Ministry. Don't see you complaining about that."

"Well, no…" Peter frowned. "But who says we won't mess it up and get ourselves killed or something?"

"I'm not saying it'll be easy," James admitted. "We'll have to start researching it right away so we know exactly what it'll take—"

"Research?" Sirius moaned. "You mean _reading?_"

Laughing, James lobbed a licorice wand across the compartment at him. "It's for Remus, you git. And it's not as though we can ask _him_ to do all the research."

"Why not?"

"Because," said James patiently. "If this doesn't work out, I don't want to have got his hopes up for nothing."

Peter laughed. "And because you don't want him putting a stop to it before you get anywhere— you know he would."

James couldn't argue with Peter there, so he only shrugged. "I know this will help Remus, and I don't care how hard it is, or how long it takes. I'm going to do it. The only question is whether you're in, or if I'm going to do it on my own."

"Of course we'll do it," said Sirius at once, sounding offended. "Moony's just as much our friend as he is yours!"

When James turned to Peter, the other boy bit his lip, but nodded slowly. "I don't know if I'll manage it, but if it's for Remus…"

James grinned. "Brill. Alright, we've got to start reading up on it now. See if your parents've got any books on animagi at home, only try not to let them know what you're looking for."

"I'll look," said Sirius, "but I doubt I'll find anything. Anamagi are too _nice_ for my family to care about. All our books are on curses, and why purebloods are better than anyone else, and other rubbish like that."

"Well, check. There's always Hogwarts' library after the hols, but it'll be harder to give Remus the slip when we're at school."

With murmurs of agreement, the three fell into silence. There really wasn't anything more to say on the subject, at least until they'd learned more about what they were getting into. But James couldn't help but feel as though they had taken the most important step. They'd found a way to help Remus with his transformations. If they pulled it off, they could keep him company on the full moon, could maybe even distract him so he wouldn't hurt himself so badly.

"I wonder what sort of animal I'll be," James said aloud. "Maybe a lion, for Gryffindor."

Sirius snorted. "I think you'd make a good donkey. You're certainly stubborn enough."

"If he's a donkey, Sirius," said Peter, grinning, "then you'd be a peacock."

"Only if you're a worm, so I can eat you!" Sirius shot back.

"Oi!"

James laughed.

Soon enough, they arrived at King's Cross and made their way out to the platform. James spotted his parents near the front of the crowd. Bidding his friends goodbye – and promising Sirius to mirror-call him after dark – James made his way to where his parents stood.

"Can I stay over at Peter's again this summer, if his dad says it's alright?" James asked before his parents could even say hello.

James' father laughed. "That eager to be rid of us?"

Grinning, James shrugged. "Not your fault, Dad. Only you're not a Marauder."

"Marauder, eh?" James' father turned to his mother and smiled. "We'll have to apologize to the Pettigrews, then. All the marauding that'll be going on at their house has got to create a mess."

Rolling her eyes, James' mother shrunk and pocketed James' trunk, then steered him toward the barrier to the muggle world. "I ought to have known my son was a marauder, what with all the times he's pillaged the kitchen before supper."

James laughed and charged through the barrier, already plotting adventures for the next year.

**The End**

* * *

**A/N: So ends another year in the life of the Marauders! Thanks to everyone who's read, favorited, or added me to alerts. And an extra big thank you to all my wonderful reviewers! You guys are great!**

**Now for what you all, no doubt, are wondering: what's next from Avery Lou?  
**

**First of all: the _James Potter _series. I will NOT be writing James' third or fourth year because, while I love writing the Marauders, I don't have the time or the inspiration to write seven full-length novels about their time at Hogwarts. The next story I write in this series will be Year Five - the completion of the animagus transformation and Marauder's Map, the Unspeakable Prank on Snape, the end of Lily and Sev's friendship... Yes, lots of fun stuff coming up.  
**

**Now, as to my next project... Before I continue the _James Potter_ series, I'm going to be writing my first AU. Set immediately after the Marauders graduate Hogwarts and focusing on them and on the Black Family (including the Malfoys, Lestranges, and Tonkses), this story will cover the First Wizarding War... with a little twist. Here's a preview: the letter that irrevocably altered the course of history.  
**

_28 October 1978_

_ Regulus—_

_Don't ask me why I'm writing this, because to be perfectly  
honest, I haven't any idea. It's been, what? Four years?  
Four years since we actually had a conversation that didn't  
involve me hexing you or you calling my friends disgusting  
blood-traitors and disgraces to magic itself and whatever  
other dragon dung you could come up with. I don't know why  
I'm expecting things to suddenly change, especially now  
you've turned Death Eater._

_I mean, Merlin, Reg! How idiotic do you have to be to join  
Voldemort? You think this will make Mum and Dad proud? Oh,  
fine. So you're probably right. But is it really worth it? Are they  
worth torturing and killing innocent people just because some nutter  
says they're beneath him? I hope you're happy, Reg. And I hope  
you're a damn good Death Eater, because I've heard the kind  
of things he does to people who fail him._

_You, Regulus Arcturus Black, are a bloody gormless moron._

_ But somewhere along the line, the fates decided it'd be worth  
a laugh or two to make me your brother, so I guess I've got to  
make sure you don't kill yourself trying to make our spiffing  
parents proud. (And if you are, in fact, trying to get yourself  
killed, you're doing a bloody good job of it.)_

_ So I guess what I'm saying— and I must be as completely  
barking as you for even thinking this— is that if you ever need  
anything, if you ever want to talk or whatever, you let me  
know. We're stuck with each other, brother, whether we  
like it or not. I'm not letting you take the easy way out._

_ (Unfortunately) Your brother,_

_—Sirius_

**Why is Sirius contacting his Death Eater brother? How will Regulus respond? What do their friends think of it all? (Like I'd answer that.) Sirius playing with five-year-old Tonks, Remus meeting with werewolves for the first times, James and Lily's wedding... All this and more will show up in this AU (in just the first few chapters, in fact.) Keep an eye on my profile for updates as I get ready to post it, and for some oneshots to break up the silence between now and then. See you in 2013 with...  
**

**_Shades of Black_  
(A story about family.)  
**

**Book One in the Black AU  
**

**And, finally, I'd like to take a moment to shamelessly direct you all to my Etsy shop, Clockwork Whimsy. Steampunk, cyberpunk, geekery, requests... Tell your friends. (Link's on my profile.)  
**


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